Lean On Me
by dardarbinx101
Summary: Tris is no longer with Four. And now he is getting married. And he invited her to the wedding. Tris has a lot to deal with, especially since she can only go to the wedding with a date. Does she even want to go? Who is going to be her date? Fortunately, she knows a guy with the 'eye for an eye' moral code. *this is Petris*
1. Chapter 1

**This is for Preciossa! This was a challenge I was given and I hope I can do it justice. This is a Petris fic, it won't be super long. Maybe a few chapters.**

 **I'm working on ADWAD and TLAMLY so I won't be updating this as frequently as those, but between writing for those stories, I'll work on this.**

 **This is after Allegiant**

 **Slightly AU/** **Characters may be ooc at time : phones will be used**

 **I do not own Divergent or any related characters or situations, just my oc's**

 **This is going to be rated M because of strong language and I might have a lemon or two in here. Haven't decided yet.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

A bird landed on the bench next to Tris—black feathers gleaming in the sun. It tilted it's tiny head at her—hopping closer to where she perched.

Her eyes lingered on the bird—not wanting to look down at what lay in her hands.

Instead, she focused on its feathers. How the sun brought out the purples and blues hidden beneath the black.

With a deep sigh, she shook her head. _Be brave._ She looked down at her lap.

Her fingers were clutching the thick envelope—her body shaking. With a sigh, she slid her finger underneath the seal to open it—the bird squawking before flapping away.

The sounds of the park go on around her as her breathing slows—vision fading in and out. _This isn't real,_ she thought as she read the wedding invitation again.

 _Tobias Eaton and Hannah Davis formally invite you, Beatrice Prior, to their wedding! November 13_ _th_ _, 2016, save the date! Couples only, you must have a date. RSVP now!_

She bit her tongue, suppressing a scoff. _Beatrice._ She clenched her fists. _That was probably Hannah Davis' doing._ She sighed, fighting back the tears that prickled her eyes.

Stuffing the invitation in her bag, she left—feet pounding on the pavement. She was rounding the corner when a gruff voice called out to her—hands reaching out.

She swung her arm back—balling her hand into a fist. "Stay back!" The man held up his hands—dirty. She squinted her eyes. He had the same orbs, brown with flecks of green—like sea-glass. His hair was the same shiny black—a dark halo on top of his head. He looked the same but then he didn't. His lips were turned down—worry lines creasing his face. His eyes were far away—probably someplace better than here. "Peter?" she asked as he turned around—holding a tin can to those who passed by.

He turned his face towards her—eyes narrowing. "Tris?" His voice cracked—eyes averting from hers. "I didn't think—I mean—"

"You thought I would leave the city after all was said and done?" She took a step towards him and he took one back, embarrassment coloring his face. "You live here?"

He nodded slowly, shrugging his shoulders. He took a deep breath. "Figured you would have booked it, the first chance you got. Seeing as Four is still here—living in the city with—"

"Hannah," Tris spat—glaring at how easily Peter's arrogance bounced back to him.

He gave a wicked smirk. "Glad to see you're doing well." He turned on his heel but she grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Peter, come on. We can go back to my apartment."

"Sorry, Stiff. But I don't do those kinds of favors."

Tris tilted her head to the side, confusion washing over her—Peter raising an eyebrow before shaking his head. "Let's get you cleaned up and give you some food."

"I don't need your hand-outs, okay?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Why don't you let me help you because you smell like shit? I mean, I'm really doing the people of this city a great service by letting you take a shower."

He gave her a wide grin. "Sarcasm? It suits you." He inhaled sharply before nodding his head—eyes cast down. "Lead the way."

* * *

Tris was cooking as he showered. The timer went off and she took the pot from the stove. Pouring the pasta into the bowl, she mixed the chicken in—adding various herbs and spices.

She had just finished setting the table when the shower turned off—Peter emerging from the bathroom moments later.

She eyed him—noticing how Four's shirt hung loosely around his body, pants draping on the ends. She felt her heart sputter when she saw those clothes—tears prickling beneath her skin.

Peter sat down and glanced up to her.

"Stop undressing me, Stiff."

She shook her head. "What?"

"With your eyes." He took his fork and dug in—practically scarfing it down.

She smiled tentatively—eating her food. "I have your clothes in the washer but you can keep those. I have some more of hi—clothes for you."

Peter nodded. "This is pretty good, Stiff. Who knew you knew how to cook with spices?"

"Christina taught me some stuff." Peter scoffed at this—his eyes glancing to his empty glass. "Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like something to drink?"

He snorted. "Yeah, some scotch please."

She narrowed her eyes. "Water it is."

She cleared her plate and watched him eat—fingers twitching. _How long have you lived out on the street, Peter?_

She was lost in her own world so long she hadn't noticed when he had gotten up to wash his dishes. She blinked a few times—shaking her head. "No, Peter. I can do that."

"It's the least I can do, Stiff."

She sighed before grabbing her bag and walking to her room. "I'm going to take a shower. If you need anything, let me know."

He nodded—back turned to her as he washed the dishes.

With a shaky breath, she threw her bag down—the invitation fluttering to the floor. She glared at it. _Fuck you._ She picked it off of the floor and stalked back to the living room—Peter giving her a small glance as he washed his last dish. Silently, she tossed it in the waste-bin before stalking back to her room.

Grabbing her night clothes, she walked to the bathroom—peering around the corner to check on Peter. He was on the couch—reading one of her books, feet propped up on the cushions. _Way to make yourself at home._

She started the shower and climbed in—breathing in the hot steam that was mixed with Peter's scent. She stiffened a little. It smelled so much like him—all earth and musk. She inhaled deeply—letting the scent wash over her as the hot water trickled down her body.

Tris didn't want to think about the stupid wedding or Four or anything else. She bit her lip—stifling a sob. The shower washed away the rogue tears that slipped between her lashes.

She was finishing rinsing herself—the tears no longer flowing, when an idea struck her. _He'd never do it._ She sighed as she dried herself off—a war raging in her mind.

Tris stalked out of the bathroom—peeking over to Peter. He was sprawled out on her couch—arm covering his eyes and a soft snore escaping his lips. She smiled as she grabbed a spare blanket and draped it over his body. She tucked him in—her hand caressing his cheek. _You're an arrogant jerk, but you're not a monster,_ she thought before a yawn slipped past her lips. Turning off the light, she padded to her bedroom—unaware of eyes on her.

* * *

Tris awoke to the smell of coffee filling her apartment. She slowly walked out into the living room—watching as Peter pilled pancakes on two plates. "Morning," Tris said between yawns.

He looked at her—eyes bright. "Morning. How'd you sleep?"

 _Terribly._ "I slept okay. You?" She poured a small amount of syrup over her pancakes before digging in. "Thanks for breakfast, you didn't have to."

He eyed her for a moment before giving her a wry grin. "I wanted to. I'm not really good at thanking people—accepting hand-outs—" she opened her mouth to speak but he waved her off. "Anyway, thanks. It's good to see you're still a Stiff."

She rolled her eyes. "And you're still an ass."

He flinched mockingly. "Ouch, Stiff. Language." She laughed before throwing a piece of pancake at him. He grabbed it and popped it into his mouth. "Is that how we're going to play?"

She rolled her eyes before eating her food—a comfortable silence taking over.

Peter cleared his throat and Tris looked to him—a questioning look on her face.

"So I saw this thing in the trash." Tris stilled—eyes narrowing. "He invited you to their wedding?"

Tris nodded slowly. "Yeah. But I'm not going to go."

He nodded. "It would be kind of weird. To go. After everything."

"Besides, it's couples only. I wouldn't have anyone to go with." She cleared her plate and got up to wash it.

She heard Peter sigh softly. "But why did he invite you? Seems like an asshole thing to do."

She dropped her plate—the porcelain clattering to the floor, breaking. "Oh." Tris shook her head and got a broom and dust-pan. She stalked over to the mess before Peter grabbed the tools from her hand. She gave him a look but he shrugged and got on the floor—sweeping the broken shards.

He was dumping the mess into the trash-can when Tris cleared her throat. "Would you like to go?"

Peter turned to face her—eyes wide. "Go where?"

She inhaled sharply. "To the wedding. With me." She sighed. "As my date."

Time seemed to be frozen—Peter standing there, eyes not blinking. Moments after, he shook his head—blinking rapidly.

"Did you just ask me to be your date?"

She took a step towards him. "Not as a date-date. Just, so I can go to the wedding."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Why do you even want to go? The prick dumped you after you almost died saving us." His words sounded like they should have been loud—sceaming at her. Instead, he was calm—eerily so.

She let out a deep sigh. "I still care about him and I want to support him."

"Bullshit."

"Excuse me?" She narrowed her eyes at him—fists clenching.

"You threw that invitation away. You didn't really plan on going—something changed your mind. Tell me, and I'll think about it."

"You're an asshole."

"You're a terrible liar."

She huffed—heat coloring her cheeks. "I want to show up and show him that I'm strong on my own—that I can move on."

"With me?"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't really have any other options."

He snorted. "So, you want to make him jealous?"

She bit her lip. "In a way. I guess."

He nodded slowly. "Sorry. I have plans."

"What do you have to do in three days?"

Peter shrugged, a smirk on his lips.

She clenched her fists—eyes narrowing. _I made a mistake helping you, you arrogant prick!_ She opened her mouth to tell him off but then sealed her lips quickly. She tilted her head—remembering distant memories she wished she could forget. Her lips tugged up at the ends and Peter narrowed his eyes. "You're going to be my date."

"Excuse me?"

She grabbed his plate and dropped in the sink—brushing past him, bumping into his shoulder. "I helped you and now you're going to help me."

He snorted. "The fuck I am."

"Yeah. You are."

He widened his eyes. "I—"

She cut him off, a smile on her lips. "You owe me, Peter. I helped you. You have to square your debts away, Big Guy. Dishes and breakfast aren't going to cut it."

He glared at her—eyes gleaming. Moments passed before a smile slithered onto his face. "You're a clever bitch, you know that?"

She raised an eyebrow. "We need to go shopping." She chewed on her bottom lip. "I have to make a call."

She stalked into her room to grab her phone from her purse. His booming voice carried over to her. "You better not be calling Christina!"

She shut her eyes tightly—ignoring Peter. The phone was answered after the second ring. "Christina? I need your help."

* * *

 **I hope you liked this! I haven't written as Peter yet, just a little in my one-shot(s) and ADWAD; but nothing central. I hope I set this up okay.**

 **Lemme know what ya think!**

 **Review/favorite/follow; do all the lovely things you do! Thanks!**

 **Until next time, bye-bye! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is the second chapter!**

 **I do not own Divergent or any related characters/situations; just my OCs**

 **This is set after Allegiant/slightly AU**

 **Characters may be ooc at times, just a fair warning**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Tris was smirking as Christina looked over Peter—critiquing the tuxedo he wore. She watched Christina shake her head—fingers poking and probing. She bit her knuckle to stifle a laugh as Peter's face tinged red—eyes glaring as Christina patted his ass.

She cast Tris a wicked grin—shrugging her shoulders at his intense glower.

Christina left to talk to one of the workers, leaving Tris to deal with Peter's glare.

"What?" She asked, her voice laced with innocence.

"I told you not to call her," he said, puffing his lower lip out and crossing his arms.

"You're being a baby."

Peter opened his mouth but shut it as Christina walked back in, hands on her hips. "I think that's the one."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Thanks for your opinion. I only tried on eleven different suits. So glad this one is to your liking."

Christina shrugged her shoulders. "You're welcome. She turned her gaze to Tris. "Now it's your turn."

Tris shuddered at the gleam in Christina's eyes. "Can't I just wear a dress that I already own?"

Christina crossed her arms over her chest. "No. Besides, what dress do you own?"

Christina rolled her eyes before waving to the attendant—brushing past Tris.

Tris wanted to punch Peter in the throat at the smug look on his face—the way he sauntered up to her, smirking.

"Don't even start," she said through gritted teeth.

"Come on, Tris. Be brave."

Tris felt heat coloring up her neck. She crossed her arms and puffed out her lower lip in a mock pout. "But Peter—"

Her eyes widened as he brought his index finger to her lips—silencing her. He took her shoulders in his hands and tilted his head to the side. "Don't be a baby, Tris."

He brushed past her, glancing to her over his shoulder—a smirk on his lips.

She glared at him—huffing as she left.

"You're so going to pay," she muttered as Christina pointed to dresses for the attendant to grab. She felt her stomach drop. _Great._

Tris really didn't care for trying on clothes. She forced herself to look at her reflection as she donned each garb.

This one was a light purple. The skirting was ruffled, stopping just under her knee, and the top was squared off above her chest—thin straps around her shoulders.

She stalked out of the curtain, sighing as Christina's face fell.

"It looked better on the hanger," she muttered and Peter let out a small chuckle.

He raised his hands in mock defense as Tris glared at him. "I think it looks nice."

She rolled her eyes and stomped back behind the curtain with a huff. "Stupid dress," she muttered as she changed into a new one.

She shimmied the smooth dress up her body—black fabric clinging to her curves. She inhaled sharply.

The dress was beautiful—black, shiny fabric hugging her body. The skirt cut off at her thighs—the top cutting into a v-shape, revealing far too much cleavage than she was comfortable with. She held her breath as she walked out of the curtain.

She was pinching at the hem of the dress, pulling it down as they gazed at her. She averted her eyes, blood rushing to her cheeks as Peter's orbs trailed over her.

She cleared her throat. "I don't think this one is apporpriate for a wedding, Chris."

"I know."

She snapped her head back, eyes blazing. "Then why did you pick it?"

Christina snuck a small glance to Peter before shrugging her shoulders. "I wanted to see it on you."

Peter mumbled something under his breath as he scratched the back of his neck. Tris huffed and rushed back behind the curtain.

"I really hate you sometimes," Tris yelled as she pulled another dress on.

"You're not a good liar!" Christina yelled back.

Tris smiled softly before she gazed at herself in the mirror. She spun a few times, watching the fabric flow—her eyes beaming. _I don't care what they think. This one is it. I am not trying on anymore dresses._

She stepped out from behind the curtain—eyes wide as she watched their breaths hitch in their throats.

Christina did a waving motion with her finger and Tris spun around—watching them from the mirror.

Christina tilted her head—a smile crossing her face. Tris' eyes flickered to Peter.

His face seemed neutral—his head nodding softly. His eyes glanced to hers—there was something in them, something almost feral. She felt her stomach tighten as they held each other's gaze.

The mood was broken as Christina clasped her hands together. "I think we have a winner!"

"It's about time," Peter mumbled as Tris went back to the dressing room to change.

She donned her regular clothes and ran a hand through her hair—trying to shake the way her stomach was doing flips.

She came out and went up to the attendant to pay. "Don't bother telling me how much it is, I don't want to know," she said as she handed him the card.

Peter stalked up next to her—leaning on the desk as the attendant handed her card back. "There's no need. It's already been paid for."

Tris glanced to Peter, who shrugged. "By who?"

The attendant flicked his fingers rapidly over the keyboard. He looked back up to her, a broad smile on his face. "It seems it was paid for by a Ms. Davis."

Tris felt her blood boil beneath her skin. "Are you sure?"

He turned his computer screen to her and Tris squinted. She clenched her fists as she read Hannah Davis' name again and again.

She stiffened as she felt a hand on the small of her back—his fingertips rubbing small circles. She relaxed into his touch—casting a small glance to his face. "Thanks," she said the attendant before walking to Christina.

"So I just spoke to Malcolm and he said the tuxedo is already ready for pick-up! Turns out your size is very common," she snickered to Peter.

He rolled his eyes. "It's always lovely talking with you, Christina."

"Anyway, the dress needs a few things here and there."

"What?"

Christina shrugged her shoulders. "Don't worry, it'll be fine. It's going to be ready tomorrow. We can pick it up then." A tall man waltzed in carrying a long bag. Christina nodded sweetly before taking the bag and tossing it to Peter. "There's your suit."

Christina laced her arm through Tris', her eyebrow raised. Tris sighed softly before turning to Peter. "Christina and I haven't really seen each other in a while. We wanted to catch up, grab some lunch." Peter clenched his jaw—eyes glaring at Christina. "Don't worry, Peter. You're off the hook. You don't have to join us."

Peter deflated—a small smile tugging at his lips. "Wait. Do I have to carry this thing around with me all day or are you?"

Tris gave him a pointed look before digging through her bag. She clasped a small golden key and held it out to him. She ignored the tingles that zipped through her as his fingertips brushed hers. "That's a spare key to my apartment. I had it made when you were trying on a billion different suits."

"So that's where you ran off to. You missed my sexy little dance."

Christina rolled her eyes. "I didn't."

"So you're trusting me with a key to your apartment? No questions asked?"

Tris quirked her eyebrow, a smirk on her lips. "I don't trust you, Peter." He beamed at her before leaving—his eyes lingering on her as he left the building.

* * *

Christina was eyeing Tris as she popped bits of muffin into her mouth.

Tris sighed. "What?"

Christina shrugged her shoulders, a smug smile on her lips. "It's nothing. I just never thought you and Peter would ever be a thing."

Tris felt her cheeks flare up. "We—we are not a thing."

"Uh-huh," Christina said between bites.

"We're not," Tris insisted.

"Just shut up and eat your muffin," Christina said, tossing some crumbs at her.

"Hey!" Tris shouted before breaking off some of her muffin and throwing it at Christina.

They were glaring at each other as crumbs flew everywhere before a waiter stalked up to the table. "I'm going to have to ask you two to stop playing with your food," she said, eyes narrowed before walking away.

Christina gave Tris a wicked grin. "What do you think got stuck up her ass?"

"She's just doing her job, Chris."

"Always a Stiff." She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes narrowing. "So what did happen? Between you and Peter?"

Tris shrugged her shoulders. "I just ran into him." She chose her words carefully, not wanting to reveal how bad off Peter was. "We started talking and he found the wedding invitation. He offered to be my date."

"Just like that?"

 _No._ "Just like that."

She raised her eyebrow, shaking her head. "Former Candor, ya know. But I won't push it."

That was when Tris raised her eyebrow. "Christina isn't going to push for more information? Has the world gone mad?"

"Oh shut up!" Christina said, hand raised and armed with fresh muffin crumbs.

Tris' eyes flicked over to the waiter—her dark orbs scowling. Christina shrugged and brushed her hands off before getting up to pay the bill. "Chris, you don't have to do that."

"It's cool. You have to deal with Butter-Knife Boy." Tris flinched at her words and Christina frowned. "Sorry. Are you two friends now?"

Tris considered her for a moment but couldn't come up with an honest answer. "I don't know. He's just helping me out."

Christina eyed her for a moment before rolling her dark orbs. "I'm sure he is," she muttered.

Tris gave her a pointed look. "What?"

"Nothing, let's get out of here. I think that waitress is planning to gouge out our eyes with a knife," Christina joked before shooting Tris an apologetic look. "Sorry, poor choice of words."

* * *

Tris stalked up the steps of her apartment building after waving goodbye to Christina.

She paused, hovering her hand over the door-knob. An aroma hit her—something sweet and something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

With a deep breath, she twisted the knob and pushed it open—breath hitching as her eyes take in the sight before her.

The kitchen table has two plates on it—some dark, crisped meat on it surrounded by long-green vegetables and clumps of mashed potatoes. There's a glass by each plate—filled with a dark-red liquid.

"Peter?" she asks, watching a candle flicker its flame in the middle of the table.

He was leaning on the wall to her hallway, an unreadable expression flashing across his face. "Hope you don't mind your steak a little burned. I was never that good at cooking."

She stared at him wide-eyed before shaking her head softly. "No, it's fine. But—what is all this?" She waved her hand over the table.

He inhaled sharply before gesturing to her seat. Blinking, she went to take a seat as he pulled the chair back for her. He walked around the other side, setting himself up at the table. He grabbed his glass and nodded for her to do the same. With an eye roll, her hand clasped the glass and held it up.

"I figured since I am to be your not-date-date, that we should probably get to know one another a little better." He paused, eyeing her reactions. "So we could pretend to be a not-real couple a little better."

She beamed at him. "Well, of course. That's a good plan." She brought the glass to her lips and let the bitter-sweet wine tingle on her tongue. "You didn't have to do all this though."

He winked at her. "I didn't." She cast him a questioning look. "The food, the dishes, even the wine—it's all your stuff. I just whipped it all together."

"You're such an ass."

"And you have such a way with words. See? Now we're getting somewhere—this whole getting to know you thing is a piece of cake," he mumbled as he ate his food.

Tris shook her head as she bit into the steak—hoping it was just the way the meat melted in her mouth that caused her stomach to flip.

* * *

 **So I hope you all enjoyed this :) I really tried to stay in character..but I feel like I portray Peter more how the actor did/is because Miles Teller really did play himself as Peter in the movies, which is fine because it gave you more of a substantial character but I hope y'all like it. :)**

 **Please remember to review/follow/favorite; do the lovely things you do! :)**

 **Until next time, bye-bye!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's chapter 3! There's some sexual-related stuff in hereeeeee, just to warn ya. ;)**

 **I do not own Divergent or any related characters/situations; just my oc's**

 **This is slightly AU, set after Allegiant**

 **This is rated M for strong language and sexual content**

 **Enjoy :)**

* * *

Tris couldn't open her eyes. Her world was bathed in darkness as her skin was ignited—hot breath pelting her neck as teeth nipped at her flesh.

His hands rubbed down her body as she arched into his touch—soft moans floating off her tongue as he moved inside her. Her thighs quivered as he slammed into her—his throbbing member pulsing between her sensitive folds.

His fingertips pinched her bundle of nerves and she exploded—moans bubbling from her throat as her walls tightened around him.

Her voice was low and breathy—a name boiling on her tongue as she climaxed.

Tris awoke with her fingers gracing her lower lips. She chewed on her lip as she teased herself—her fingertips flicking over her clit.

In one swift motion she plunged inside herself—fingers pumping and rubbing frantically. Her toes curled as her core unraveled—tingles spreading throughout her body.

She moaned softly as she bucked up into her hand—head lulling back and eyelids fluttering closed.

Her breaths were short and shallow as she worked—fingers thrusting in and out, pinching her bundle of nerves.

She was teetering on the edge when his voice called out to her. "Wake up Stiff! Can't sleep in all day!"

She froze mid-stroke—breath hitching and her body spasming as she came down. Heat crawled up her neck as she withdrew her hand—slick with her juices. She huffed—eyes narrowed at her bedroom door. _I can't even relax in my own home._ She rolled her eyes as she looked at the clock on her nightstand. _11:38. Shit! How long was I asleep for?_

Tris scrambled out of bed—grabbing her clothes for the day. She stalked into the hall—eyes landing on Peter.

He was leaning against the couch—a smirk on his lips. She put on a neutral expression and raised her eyebrows. He shrugged his shoulders, eyes gleaming. She huffed at him—hip jutting to the side.

"I'm going to hop into the shower," she said as she walked into the bathroom.

She was shutting the door when his voice carried over to her.

"A cold one?"

Her eyes widened as she closed the door—blood coloring her cheeks. _He's just being an ass._

* * *

The grass tickled her legs as she leaned back on her palms—face basking in the afternoon sun.

"This picnic in the park was a lovely idea," Tris said as she relaxed in the soft wind.

She could feel his eyes on her and she bit down on her lip—trying to fight the blush that started to spread over her neck.

"You look kind of cute when you blush," he mumbled—words fading on the breeze.

Tris' eyes snapped open and she stared at him. "What?"

He shrugged his shoulders, a smirk on his lips. "I said, we should get to know one another."

She eyed him a moment before falling all the way back on the ground—arms beneath her head. "We learned about each other last night at dinner."

She heard him scoff before he settled down next to her. She turned towards him—his arms supporting his head as he stared up to the sky, eyes closed.

"We learned basic shit. Favorite colors and food." He looked to her, a wicked gleam in his eye. "You're pretty bland."

She narrowed her eyes. "Asshole."

He let a small chuckle escape his lips. "That came out wrong. I meant, you're kind of a Stiff." She turned her head away—eyes glaring at the blue sky. "I mean, come on. Favorite color? Black." He snorted. "Favorite food? Plain chicken."

Tris sighed—anger sizzling beneath her skin. "Food doesn't have to have a bunch of spices—it ruins the flavor of the chicken."

Peter snorted. "What flavor? Spices give it flavor."

Tris turned her glare on him. "So are you being an ass because I didn't get deep with you? Or because my favorite food and color isn't to your liking?"

He raised his eyebrow at her, lips turned up at the end. "I'm being an ass?"

She huffed. "Yes!" She bolted upright—fingers clenching the grass. "It really shouldn't surprise me." She heard him shuffle beside her—eyes on her. She sighed softly. "Why do you think black is my favorite color?"

"It was a Dauntless color."

She turned to face him. His face always looked so innocent—the sun igniting the highlights in his dark hair. She reached out to him—fingertips barely flitting through his hair. She watched him stiffen as she skimmed his soft locks. "Black isn't just black—it's all of the colors combined." She smiled softly as her fingers pulled on his hair—his eyelids closing. "It's everything—together."

She heard a soft moan escape his lips as she pulled on his hair. Blinking rapidly, she withdrew her hand—heat coloring her cheeks. He opened his eyes slowly—something unreadable flashing through his eyes. "That was kind of deep, Stiff."

He smirked at her and she nudged his shoulder—thankful for his playful attitude.

They sat and ate mostly in silence—the warm breeze washing over them as they relaxed in the grass. Peter was picking at some blades before he tossed it at Tris.

"Hey!" she cried before she grabbed a clump and threw it back.

Grass was flying back and forth between the two as their cries of laughter carried on the wind. Out of breath—Tris flopped down on the grass, panting heavily. Peter fell down next to her—his shoulder bumping into hers.

"You're such an ass," Tris muttered, breathless.

"You're such a Stiff," he responded. Silence took over for a moment before she felt his eyes on her—intense.

"What?"

He chewed on his bottom lip as he considered her—inhaling sharply. "What was it like for you?" Tris felt her heart stutter. "After the war." Her breath hitched in her throat—fists clenching slightly. "Shit, Tris—I didn't—you don't have to—"

 _No, it's okay,_ she thought—taking a deep breath. She opened her mouth to speak when her phone went off. She cast a quick glance to Peter before answering it.

"Hey, Chris?" She smiled at how Peter scoffed.

 _"Tris! Your dress is ready for pick-up! They called to let me know—guess they didn't have your number on file."_

"Oh, okay. Thanks! Bye."

 _"Bye! Don't have too much fun with Peter!"_

Tris rolled her eyes as she hung up—blood coloring her ears.

"What did she want?"

"My dress is ready. Mind if we go get it?"

"Let's go," Peter said as he gathered their things in the picnic basket. "Can we stop at your place on the way? I don't feel like carrying this all over town." Tris rolled her eyes as she nodded.

* * *

Tris and Peter were sitting in the lobby waiting for the attendant to return with the dress.

"He said he'd be back in a few minutes."

Tris glanced to Peter—his right leg bouncing rapidly. "Yeah?"

Peter grumbled. "It's been like ten."

"It hasn't been that long."

Peter turned to her—eyes narrowed. "I could have tried on twenty suits by now."

Tris scoffed before a small smile slithered across her face. She tilted her head to the side—eyes locked with his. "Why don't you?"

"Why don't I what?"

"Why don't you try on more suits?" He stared at her, eyes wide. "For me?" She puffed out her lower lip in a mock pout.

He raised his eyebrow before smirking broadly. "You want to watch me change?"

She tried to fight the blush that was creeping up her throat. She leaned in closer—eyes holding his gaze. "I want to see your sexy dance."

His face broke out in a grin and they laughed together. She watched his eyes crinkle at the edges—his voice caressing her eardrums.

His face was inches from hers when they caught their breath. She watched his eyes dart to her lips and then back up—his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"Tris?" a soft voice called.

Tris stiffened before the girl came into view—glistening red hair and eyes as dark as the night-time sky. Peter looked back and forth between the girls—confusion masking his face as he struck his hand out to her.

The girl tilted her head to the side before grasping his hand—a smile on her lips.

"I'm Peter."

"It's lovely to meet you," she said, her voice like honey. "I'm Hannah Davis." Suddenly an arm was wrapping around her and Tris' body began to shake.

"Hey, Tris," Four said, voice low.

She locked eyes with his—lower lip quivering. Suddenly warmth was filling her. She cast a glance to Peter—his eyes narrowed as he slipped his arm over her shoudlers.

She watched Four's jaw clench as he watched them. Tris leaned into Peter—his scent encasing her. "Hi, Four," she said—chin raised. She glanced to Hannah. "Hannah."

Hannah entwined her fingers with Four's, a sweet smile gracing her lips. "It's so nice to see you, Tris. Did you come here to get a dress for our wedding?"

Tris' hands clenched at the tone of her voice—all happiness and excitement.

"I'm actually just waiting for the attendant to bring it out."

"Oh good! I gave them a list for everyone we invited to the Wedding—our close friends and family—so that whatever they picked out would be paid for."

Tris' eyes narrowed. _I am not your family or your friend._ "You didn't have to do that."

Hannah tilted her head to side, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "I didn't. My father is technically paying for it all. But of course I did! You deserve to look your best and with everything you've been though—why should you pay?"

Peter's arm tightened as Tris shook with anger. _You have no idea what I've been through._ "Thanks," she said through gritted teeth.

She watched Four's hand tighten around Hannah's—tension boiling in the air. Then, the attendant stalked out—Tris' dress in tow.

Tris grabbed it and Hannah stalked forward. "Let me see!"

Tris snatched it from her—the girl stumbling a bit, her arms clutching to her stomach. "Oh, I'm sorry—I—"

Four pulled Hannah into his arms—kissing the top of her forehead. Tris felt hot tears prickling under her skin. Hannah turned around to face Tris—a smile on her lips. "It's fine. It's just—with the baby—it's fine."

Tris froze—eyes not blinking. She heard them say their goodbyes and leaving. She felt Peter's strong arms leading her away. She might have even felt the cool chill of the evening air—but Tris couldn't pay much attention to that. She could only focus on how her heart was clenching in her chest—the pressure pushing down, crushing her.

* * *

She wasn't tasting the food as she ate—her hand moving mechanically to shovel in the meal before her.

Stab.

Chew.

Swallow.

Stab.

Chew.

Swallow.

Her fingers laced around the glass and she brought it to her lips—the liquid running down her throat, barely skimming her tongue.

She watched his hands take the dishes away—heard the sink turn on as he scrubbed them clean.

Tris was dimly aware of his hands on her shoulders—her vision wobbling as he shook her. She turned to him and tried to see him—she blinked rapidly to clear her vision, but it was no use.

In a huff she stood up, padding to her bedroom.

She heard his footsteps trail behind her as she opened her bedroom door—a dull force dragging her back. His face was inches from hers—eyes bright and eyebrows raised.

She narrowed her eyes as his lips moved—no sound coming through. He shook his head softly—eyes rolling. She was about to turn away when he grabbed her again—pulling her close.

Her eyes were open as she watched his eyelids fall—his warm lips moving against hers. She gasped when the realization hit her—his tongue darting between her parted lips.

She didn't respond at first—her mind scattered as his hands gripped her hips, tongue dancing with hers. With a sigh, she melted into him—eyes closing as their lips worked together.

He tasted sweet and bitter—like wine. She rubbed her hands up his chest—fingers clenching his shirt. She bit his lower lip and he moaned into her mouth. He was leaning in to capture her lips in his again when she slammed on his chest—pushing him away.

He gave her a questioning look and she shook her head softly. "No, Peter. We can't."

He tilted his head to the side—something flashing across his face, too quick for Tris to catch it. "Why not?" His voice was low—far away.

Tris sighed deeply. "It's not real Peter." She waved her hands between the two of them—eyes locked with his. "We—just can't."

He nodded softly—a neutral expression masking his face. "It's just pretend."

She nodded softly before watching him go to the couch—eyes far away, again. She shut the door softly—tears brimming in the back of her throat.

* * *

She was tossing and turning in her bed—sleep eluding her. She sighed—thinking about Four and Hannah having a baby.

 _I'm your family, now._ She scoffed—hands clenching in the sheets, jaw rigid to fight the tears from escaping.

Her fingers dusted over her lips—a soft sigh on her tongue. _Peter._ She couldn't be with him—there was too much between them. _He doesn't like me—he was—just in the moment._

She nodded softly to herself. _It was just in the heat of the moment._

She chewed on her lower lip as a pressure built up in her lower region. Her mind drifted back to that kiss—Peter's soft lips claiming hers, his tongue twisting in her mouth.

She moaned softly as she trailed her hand down her body—fingers pinching at her hardening buds. She arched her back as she groped her breast—fingers massaging and kneading.

She let one of her hands skim down the rest of her body—fingers ghosting over her heat. She shut her eyes and imagined Peter's tongue dominating hers as she plunged a finger between her sensitive folds.

She pictured his long fingers stroking her—pinching her bundle of nerves. She added another finger—pumping in faster as she thought of his lips on her neck. She turned her face and moaned into her pillow—biting the soft fabric as her toes curled.

Her core unraveled—walls tightening around her fingers. She flicked her clit, thrusting hard as she climaxed—Peter's name bubbling in her throat.

She was breathing heavily as she rode out her bliss. Her mind cleared and she chewed on her lower lip—the image of him pleasuring her in the forefront of her mind. _Shit._

* * *

 **Okay, so to keep y'all updated on the timeline, the wedding is gonna be the next chapter. This might end there or go on for another one or two, depending on what I get done in them.**

 **I know the back-and-forth thing can be irritating, but this relationship is hard. The stuff Peter did in the books still happened, Tris has also always been super confused when it came to emotions/other people's emotions; so don't hate me for them not getting together yet. It'll happen :)**

 **Anyway, please remember to follow/favorite/review; do the lovely things you do!  
Until next time, bye-bye! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**I am not a monster that will abandon a fic that isn't complete :p Of course I'm going to update! :)**

 **Between work and all the stories I'm working on-I try to update as fast as I can.**

 **This is alightly AU/ After Allegiant**

 **I do not own Divergent or any related characters or situations; just my oc's**

 **Characters may be ooc at times.**

 **Enjoy! :)**

* * *

The hot water trickled over her skin, steam filling the room. Tris inhaled slowly—eyes shut tightly as she rinsed her body.

"Don't use up all the hot water!" his voice called to her—pins and needles shooting down her spine.

She huffed. "You should have jumped in first, Peter. You're missing out!"

Silence engulfed her as she lathered her hair—soft suds cascading down her back. She gasped softly when she heard the door open—her heart drumming in her throat. "Don't tempt me, Stiff." His voice was low and dark—Tris' body shivering. She chewed on her lip—a smirk spreading over her face as the door shut.

Tris watched her relfection through the foggy mirror as she donned her clothes. She huffed as she struggled with her shirt—the fabric sticking to her damp body.

"So we should practice again," Peter said—his voice flowing like wine.

Tris' face was stuck in her shirt, the fabric covering her eyes—her hair sticking up and her cheeks flushed. She grunted loudly and laughter was echoing all around her.

She felt her fabric begin to shift and a gasp escaped her lips. "What are you—"

Her eyes shifted up to his reflection in the mirror—his form still slightly blurred by the steam. She could still see his dark eyes on her—his chest rising and falling quickly. She gulped softly before turning around to face him—his face locked on her.

They stared at each other for a long moment before he cleared his throat—a smirk playing at his lips, not quite reaching his eyes. "You always were clumsy, Stiff."

Tris rolled her eyes before nudging his shoulder. "You can have the shower now, Jerk."

He clutched his chest in mock pain before going into the bathroom. He spun to face her—standing in the doorframe. "The offer still stands."

"What offer?" Tris ran her fingers through her damp hair—untangling the knots and curls.

She looked back to him—his eyebrow raised. "You can join me—in the shower." Tris stared at him—lips slightly parted. He winked at her before shutting the door.

Tris shook her head lightly before going to the kitchen. She pulled the bowl of strawberries closer to her as the shower turned on—fingertips grazing the red fruit. She grabbed one and put it to her lips—the sweet juices flowing down as her teeth nipped through its soft skin. She leaned back on the counter—eyes closed as she ate. She took another bite when a muffled sound came from the bathroom. "What?" she asked, annoyance lacing her voice. She hovered the strawberry above her lips when his muffled voice carried over to her once more. Sighing deeply, she stalked to the bathroom—strawberry in tow. "What?" she asked, a little louder.

She heard him groan before the doorknob began to wobble and before Tris could blink, the door was opened and her eyes were staring at his abs—water glistening down his skin. She traveled the length of his torso—a small gasp hissing through her lips as her eyes fell on the towel crudely wrapped around his waist. "My eyes are up here, Stiff."

Tris jumped—heat crawling up her neck as she took in his smirk and gleaming eyes. "What?" she asked—hands fidgeting by her sides.

He tilted his head for a moment before speaking again, amusement lacing his voice. "I forgot to bring my clothes in with me."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

He leaned closer to her and she inhaled his scent—earth and musk mixed with steamy water. His cool breath rolled over her as he spoke—eyes dark. "Could you get them for me?"

She was swaying closer to him before she shook her head—eyes blinking rapidly. "Yeah, sorry—I—sorry." She heard a quiet chuckle leave his lips as she went to grab clothes for him. "Here," she said—voice low.

He took his clothes—fingertips grazing hers. "Thanks." She nodded softly before he closed the door again. "So you never answered me before."

"About what?" she asked—bringing her strawberry back to her mouth.

Her lips were about to clasp around it when the door opened—Peter using the towel to dry his hair. She cast a glance to him—his shirt in his hand instead of on his body. She must have been staring too long because he turned back to her—a smile spreading across his lips. "Are you checking me out, Prior?"

She gasped—dropping her strawberry. "No!" she cried as her hands darted to catch the falling fruit—Peter's hands grabbing it in the air. She held her open palm out but he shook his head—bringing the strawberry to his lips. She watched as the juice flowed in the corners of his mouth—his eyes closing as he chewed. She ignored the fire igniting in her belly and crossed her arms with a huff. "Jerk."

He smirked at her before pulling his shirt over his head. "As I was saying, Stiff, we should practice again."

She leaned back against the wall—eyebrow raised. "Practice what?"

He mimicked her stance—shoulders shrugging. "The whole relationship thing. If we're going to pretend we should at least do a convincing job, huh?"

She nodded slowly—accepting his words. "Okay. So we should get our story straight, yeah?"

"So are we pretending to be a couple or is it just casual?"

She cocked her head to the side—confusion masking her face. "What do you mean?"

He rolled his eyes as he brushed past her to sit on the couch. She perched on the arm of the sofa as he streched his long body over the cushions. "Are we casual? Are we in it for the relationship? Are we just in it for the sex?"

"Oh," she said—her hands running through her hair as she chewed on her lower lip. "Well no one would believe I'd be in it just for—you know."

He snorted softly. "Yeah, because they're going to just believe we're in a commited relationship that doesn't revolve around hate."

Tris' lips tugged down at the ends—her eyes searching his face. He reclined on the sofa—face neutral. "I don't hate you," Tris whispered. She inhaled deeply. "So how about casual then? But not just sex-related. There has to be something a bit more."

Tris couldn't understand what Peter mumbled—narrowing her eyes as he stretched on the couch. "Okay. Casual but romantic it is. How long have we been dating?" He opened his eyes and stared at her while her hands twisted and turned on her lap. He sighed before he leaned forward—his legs falling off the side of the couch. "How long has it been since Four—"

"Two years," Tris responded—fists clenched. She took a shaky breath—averting her gaze to the ground. "It's been two years."

She watched Peter nod out of the corner of her eye. "So how about a year, then?"

She considered him a moment before shaking her head. "That's too soon. And too long for something casual, right?"

He sighed. "What then?"

"How about since August? I wasn't really in contact with Christina or anyone at that time—it would be more believable."

"Okay, so three months?"

"Three months," Tris concluded.

"So here's the big question. The one people are going to ask the most." Tris turned her gaze on him—his face serious. "How?"

"How what?"

"How did this—" he waved his hand between them. "—happen?"

Tris leaned back—the back of the couch barely supporting her. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply.

* * *

It was almost noon when Tris and Peter boarded the train—Christina waving them down frantically. She gave Tris a soft smile before she snorted at Peter.

"It's always a pleasure, Chris," Peter sneered.

"Can it, Candor. I feel good and I don't want you to ruin it." A hand snaked around her waist and she let out a soft giggle. "This is Ryan. Ryan, that is Peter and that is my best friend, Tris."

Ryan shook Peter's hand and then Tris', eyes going wide at the mention of her name. "Tris as is Tris Prior?"

Tris stiffened—nodding softly. "That's me."

Ryan's light-brown eyes grew wide—cheeks turning pink as he ran a hand through his sandy-blonde hair. "I can't believe it—this is really amazing. You—you're amazing."

Christina elbowed him in the ribs—a soft scowl on her face. "Dude. I'm right here."

"Huh? Oh—sorry—it's just—you saved us all, ya know?" He chuckled a little—mostly to himself as Peter and Tris shared a look, their eyes going wide and a smirk on their lips. "This must be a terribly day for you," he muttered and Tris' face fell. The mood on the train shifted—air thickening. "Oh, I mean—it's just that you lost everything." Tris' heart began to crawl up her throat—fists clenching. "I mean—I—Caleb and the death serum—and now you're going to Four's wedding—"

Tris felt hot tears brimming behind her eyes as Christina yanked Ryan away—her eyes narrowed and whispered words dying as the wind whistled through the train. Tris melted a little as pressure was applied to her back—soft circles being drawn there.

She leaned into Peter—his warmth filling her. He held her close to him, no words leaving his lips—and Tris couldn't be more content.

Moments of silence passed before Tris shifted away from Peter—Ryan avoiding her gaze. She felt bad for him—but made no move to talk to him.

"So why aren't you ladies in your dresses?" Peter asked—rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.

"So we don't ruin them on the train." Christina rolled her eyes. "We'll change when we get there. The wedding isn't for another hour."

Peter scoffed. "Women," he mumbled—Tris laughing softly, ignoring Christina's burning gaze.

* * *

They stalked through the Amity farms—sucking in a deep breath as the renovated hub came into view.

The backside that faced the woods still looked the same—all open and vibrant. The add-on was completely different.

It was modern and tall—the entire building looking like one giant mirror. Tris stiffened as they grew closer—eyes watching the dirt beneath her feet as she walked.

Christina took the dress-bags that the boys were holding and grabbed Tris' wrist—dragging her to the bathroom area. They stalked in—eyes taking in the sheer size of the room.

"This is bigger than my apartment," Tris said as she stared at the diamond pattern on the tiles.

Christina nodded before she smashed the bag into Tris' arms. "Get dressed and I'll do our make-up."

"I don't need—" Christina gave her a pointed look before going into a stall. With a silent sigh, Tris shut the chrome door and took off her clothes. "Where are we going to put the bags with our normal clothes?" Tris asked as she shimmied the dress up her body.

"There's a closet we can hang the bags in. It's down the hallway."

"You know this how?"

Silence passed before she responded. "I scouted the place with Hannah."

"Oh," was all Tris could say as she felt anger boil beneath her skin. She bit down on her rage—Christina choosing to not dwell on the subject.

"Hurry up and let me see how sexy you are."

Tris rolled her eyes as she stepped out of the stall—her black heels clacking on the tile.

Christina's face lit up—a wide smile spreading across her face. "Beautiful. Now let me work my magic."

Tris sat on the sink unwavering as Christina brushed and tugged and painted. She took a step back, eyes analyzing Tris before she nodded. "Am I free?"

Christina rolled her eyes before she fixed her dress—fingers pulling the ruby hem down. "You're welcome."

Tris smiled warmly before hopping down—a small gasp escaping her lips as she stared at herself in the mirror.

The eyeliner Christina used made the blue in her eyes pop—the gray looking almost silver. Tris smiled—her lips a pale rose color. Her hair was in bright, blonde waves over her shoulder.

She took in the dress—the red bodice sticking to her body, hugging her curves. The collar came down in a small 'V' shape that showed a little cleavage, her raven tattoo stark against her skin.

It looked like she was encased in fire—a crimson glow.

Christina gave her a small smile. "Are you ready?"

Tris nodded softly. "As I'll ever be."

* * *

Tris shivered as she sat in her seat—the chill in the air freezing her veins. She curled around herslef—hugging her arms to her chest.

She sighed as a warmth spread over her—Peter's arm snaking around her shoulder. She cast a quick glance to him before she leaned against him.

Tris tried not to stare at Four. At how his suit fit him perfectly—his back straight and tall. She inhaled sharply—trying to forget about how his lower lip was more full than the top—how he tasted. Peter's arm squeezed her tighter and she relaxed into him—eyes blinking rapidly as she walked down the isle.

Her dress was breathtaking—an off-white bodice lacing around her curves. The delicate lace trailed behind her—her veil knotted with flowers.

Tris' eyes drifted to the trees behind them. She listened to the birds chirping as they said "I do." She watched the leaves sway in the fall breeze as their lips connected.

The cold air no longer affected her. Her skin numb—save for the warmth that was slowly igniting her body where Peter's skin touched hers.

* * *

The dinning hall was huge—hundreds of tables filled with laughing guests. Christina and Ryan sat opposite of Tris and Peter—their faces huddled together as they smiled and talked. Tris ate her chicken silently—her fingers lacing around the small glass of wine.

Peter raised an eyebrow to her before he took a small sip—Tris' eyes following a dark, red droplet that trickled down his skin. She licked her lips but resisted the urge to follow the trail with her tongue as Peter wiped the wine away.

"Tris!" a familiar voice called from behind her.

Tris turned around and was staring at dark brown eyes and a bright smile. "Zeke!"

She stood up and hugged him—smiling at how his scent reminded her of Uriah. "How've you been?" he asked as she took her seat, Zeke and Shauna pulling up a chair.

"I've been alright. How have you been?"

"Good! Shauna doesn't need her wheelchair anymore—it's pretty amazing."

Tris smiled politely and Shauna smiled back. "I'm glad."

"I'm honestly surprised you showed up," Zeke said, voice soft. "I love Four but he's an idiot for—"

Tris stiffened before she shook her head. "Zeke, it's okay."

Zeke nodded slowly before a wicked grin crossed his face. "So who's your date?"

Tris rolled her eyes before she scooted back a little, Peter coming into full view. Zeke narrowed his eyes before he turned back to Tris—eyebrows raised. Tris nodded softly—Peter taking her hand in his. "Peter is my date."

"No shit. How long?"

"Three months," they said at the same time—Tris ignoring Christina's narrowed gaze.

"How did that happen?" Zeke asked before Shauna stood up and grasped his arm—leading him away.

"Sorry about him, Tris. He's had a little bit to drink," she called over her shoulder.

Tris stiffened when his voice carried to her. "Tris?"

Peter's grip tightened as she turned her head to face Four—face neutral. "Congratulations, Four."

He sighs before nodding. "Thanks. You look beautiful by the way."

Tris inhaled sharply through the nose. "Thanks."

Four rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, mouth opened to speak when a microphone turned on—a loud static-pop filling the room.

Tris ignored Four-turning her gaze to Zeke as he stood up with the microphone to his lips. "I am here to celebrate my best friend's wedding!" An eruption of cheers spread through the room. "Four, I love you! You're like a brother to me, man. And now you're married to this lovely woman—Tr—Hannah. And I'm just so happy for you." Four looked uncomfortable as people stared at him—his hands fidgeting by his sides. "We've been through so much together—you, me, Tris, Uri—" his voice cracked at the last part and Tris dug her nails into Peter's hand, a soft hiss escaping his lips. "I—I'm just happy for you. Congratulations."

Four hugged Zeke before Hannah walked up. She kissed Four—hard—before taking the microphone.

"Thank you, Zeke!" she cooed, her voice sharp. "I just wanted to thank everyone for being here—supporting us. It means so much to me—to us—to see you all here." She linked her hand with Four, her wide eyes scanning the crowd—landing on Tris. "I wanted to say something to Tris Prior." Tris stiffened—eyes wide as everyone's gaze settled on her. She glanced to Four but his face was as confused as she felt. "You have lost so much for us. Two years ago you saved us from destroying ourselves. You lost your mother and father—your brother, too." Tris' mouth ran dry—soft murmurs echoing through the room. Hannah wore a sweet smile and Tris wanted to punch it off of her. "I just wanted to say—we are your family now." She gave a small chuckle—eyes gleaming as she rubbed her belly lovingly. "All three of us."

The room erupted as people cheered and laughed and ogled over the announcement of her pregnacy. Tris narrowed her eyes before shooting up from her chair—her feet carrying her to the bar.

"What will it be?" the bartender asked—voice low.

"Something that I won't remember tomorrow," Tris replied—eyes even. The bartender tilted his head—a smirk covering his face as he mixed her a drink. He handed her the glass—the liquid green and glowing before her. "Thanks."

She leaned against the counter as she brought the drink to her lips. It was smooth and bitter and sweet as it swam down her throat—soft tingles in her belly.

"You okay?" Peter asked, his arm around her waist. She shook her head as she leaned into him—the drink already half gone. Peter took the glass and sniffed it. "What even is this?"

"Don't know," she said, voice raspy.

She looked up to Peter—his hair dark and shiny and she just wanted to run her fingers through it. She bit her lip as she reached her hand up—a deep voice interrupting her thoughts.

"Tris? I—I am so sorry for that."

She turned her eyes on Four—cheeks flushed. "Not good enough."

He blinked a few times before his eyes glared at where Peter's hand was firmly rested against her hip. "Can I speak to Tris alone?"

"Probably—but you won't." Peter's grip tightened as he pulled her closer to him—her hand resting on his chest.

Four's jaw clenched as he turned to Tris. "Peter? Really?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What about it?"

"How did this even happen?"

Tris rolled her eyes. "We just ran into each other and—"

"And things just happened," he supplied for her—arms crossing his chest. "I heard the rumors. I call bullshit."

"Well whoop dee doo for you," Tris slurred, Peter's body the only thing holding her up.

"Tris, will you just talk to me?"

Tris' heart clenched at the look on his face—eyes all stormy and lips turned down. "Two years." He blinked a few times, eyebrows raised. "Two fucking years without you." Peter's grip tightened but she pushed him away, swaying a bit. "It wasn't even a year after everything that you just up and left. It was four months." Tris snorted, a wild smile on her lips. "Guess four is your lucky number."

Four stepped forward—eyes narrowed. "I couldn't take it anymore, Tris. You weren't yourself. You shut down and shut me out! It was like your life never mattered—you didn't care who you affected!"

"I lost everything!" Tris didn't care that a few of the guests had turned their gazes to her—tears spilling down her cheeks. "I needed you and I lost you, too." Four's face softened and he reached out to her but she pushed away—feet carrying her out of the dinning hall. She dimly heard Peter's voice calling after her but she didn't stop.

She found herself in the bathroom watching her face as the tears fell—black dots of make-up falling with the tears.

She wiped her face and took a deep breath when a wretching sound came from one of the stalls. Sighing, Tris padded down the bathroom—hands pushing on the door. _It's locked._ She bit on her lower lip. "Are you okay? Do you need help?"

Silence stretched on before she heard the click of the lock sliding out of place. Tris opened the door and her eyes widened as she watched Hannah hover her face over the toilet—vomit coloring her mouth.

Hannah looked up to her—brows furrowed before she averted her gaze, emptying herself into the bowl.

Tris sighed before she crouched down—rubbing cirlcles on her back. She dry-heaved a few times before leaning her back against the smooth chrome walls.

"You okay?" Tris asked, not sure why she was even there. Hannah didn't speak—she just breathed deeply with her eyes closed. Sighing, Tris stood up to leave before she felt a soft tug on her dress. She glanced down at Hannah, her hands wrapped aorund Tris' skirt.

"Wait."

Tris crouched back down, eyebrow raised. "Do you need me to get Four?"

Hannah chuckled softly before she shook her head. "I'm okay—just—the baby." Tris nodded softly—heat rising in her cheeks. "Thank you. For being here." She coughed a little before getting up. "I'm fine, you can go." Tris nodded before she left the stall. She washed her hands as Hannah rinsed out her mouth. Her hand was reaching for the door when Hannah's voice rang in her ears. "I'm sorry."

Tris turned to face her. "Sorry for what?"

"For all you've lost. For Four."

Tris nodded—eyes averted. "I'm not."

* * *

Peter threw the bag with her clothes on her bedroom floor as she stumbled in. Tris flopped down on her bed—soft groans escaping her lips as Peter tugged her heels off. He was turning to leave when she grabbed his arms. "My dress—it's too tight," she whimpered.

Peter rolled his eyes before he leaned over her—his hands unzipping the dress. She swallowed hard as the fabric slid from her body—Peter's eyes darkening.

On instinct Tris' hands caressed his face—bringing his lips down to hers. They crashed together—teeth clacking and tongues dancing.

He leaned into her—his legs nestled between hers as his hands roamed her body. She arched into him as his fingers rubbed over her breasts—her nipples protruding through her bra. She moaned into his mouth—hands unbuttoning his shirt.

She rubbed herself over his erection and felt him shudder before his hands were stopping hers. She tilted her head, lips pouting as he pushed her away.

Peter stood up, shaking his head as he turned for the door. "Peter? What are you doing?"

Peter stopped—a soft sigh escaping his lips. Tris' heart clenched when he turned around—his eyes grave and lips turned down. "We can't do this, Tris."

Tris sunk down on the bed—eyes peering at him from her pillow. "Why not?"

Tris watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "I don't want to be your great mistake."

Tris froze as he left—the silence threatening to consume her.

* * *

 **Gah, okay maybe I am a monster! Muahhaha. Guess you'll just have to wait for more chapters ;)**

 **Anyway, please favorite/follow/review; do all the lovely things you do!  
Until next time, bye-bye! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**And here is the morning after! Sorry it took me so long, I wanted to get it right and have the burn be as slow as possible for you guys because I lvoe you. haha, I just wanted it to make sense with their personalities, don't hate me :p**

 **This is set after Allegiant**

 **Slightly AU**

 **Characters may be ooc**

 **Rated M: strong language and sexual content/hints/situations**

 **I do not own Divergent or any related characters/situations; just my oc's**

 **Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Tris woke up with a slight pounding in her ears. Groaning, she turned in her bed—running her hands through her hair. _What happened?_ She chewed on her lower lip—eyes going wide. _I tried to have sex with Peter._ She nodded slowly, her heart drumming in her throat. _I just tried to have sex with Peter!_

She shot up from bed, fingers gripping her sheets. _I'm so dumb._ She let out a deep sigh when she remembered his words. _"I don't want to be your great mistake."_ She shook her head, biting down on the tears before getting up. _I should apologize,_ she thought as she stalked out of her bedroom.

She walked into the hallway just as the bathroom door flew open—Peter walking out. Tris' breath hitched in her throat as she watched tiny water droplets trickle down his body. She watched his gleaming muscles ripple beneath his skin as the droplets traveled down to the top of his pants. He was towel-drying his hair when his eyes looked over to her, eyebrow quirked.

She felt her lips tug down at the ends when he wore no smirk or shit-eating grin. _I really fucked up, huh?_

She inhaled sharply. "I just wanted to apologize—for last night."

He nodded slowly—face neutral. "It's fine."

She bobbed her head up and down—trying to shake the flush away. He brushed past her without another glance. "I'm going to take a shower," she called before she rushed into the bathroom.

She pushed her back against the door—letting the cold wood seep into her bones. _I'm an idiot._

She turned on the shower and took off her clothes. His scent still lingered in the bathroom and she did her best to ignore it. She climbed into the shower, letting the scalding water wash over her body.

She sighed into the steam—his earthy-musk invading her nostrils. _Fuck it,_ she thought as she breathed him in. She inhaled deeply, running her hands over her body.

She moaned when her hand brushed over her sensitiver folds—her other covering her mouth. She let out a frustrated moan before pouring shampoo into her palm. _I don't want to be your great mistake. What does that even mean?_ She huffed as she massaged her scalp—nails digging in as she lathered her hair.

She repeated the process with her conditioner before washing her body—her skin tingling and slightly pink from the heat. She scrubbed her skin raw—tears hot in her eyes. _The mistake was thinking you'd actually want me._ She bit her knuckle to stifle a sob as the water washed her clean—steam swarming her senses, his scent no longer there.

Shutting off the water, she hopped out of the shower—drying her hair with a towel. She ran the fabric over her body before wrapping it around her. With a soft sigh, she opened the door—bristling as the cold air swarmed her. Goosebumps popped up on her skin as she made her way to her bedroom—not noticing eyes on her as she padded down the hallway.

Tris and Peter ate their pancakes in mostly silence, save for their soft chewing and gentle clatter of forks on porcelain. Tris tried to focus on the soft pancake—how the syrup tasted on her tongue. She did not want to imagine Peter licking that syrup off of her—that would be wrong. So wrong.

She cast a quick glance to him—his face staring at his almost empty plate. She sighed—inhaling the maple-sugary smell. She tried to wash away his earthy-musk scent with that of the syrup-drenched pancakes. She groaned inwardly. _Who am I kidding?_ She cast another quick glance to him, cheeks heating up as his eyes locked with hers. He quirked an eyebrow and she froze. _Say something witty,_ her mind chanted. Her fingers twitched in desperation—this need to hear his sarcasm laced voice poke fun at her or say some inuendo that would send her heartbeat drumming up her throat.

Instead, he finished his last bite and got up to wash his dishes. She deflated—her body feeling numb. _Peter can bounce back from living on the street but I take him up on his offer for sex and he turns into this?_ She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice his face inches from hers. She inhaled sharply. She could see the green and golden flecks swimming in his chocolate eyes. She could see the gleam in his dark hair—count the small freckles that dotted the bridge of his nose.

"Are you alive?"

She blinked rapidly—fighting off her blush. "Sorry. I was lost in thought." He grunted in response. She raised her eyebrows as he stood in front of her—arms over his chest. "Can I help you with something?"

He rolled his eyes. _That's something, I guess._ "Are you done eating?"

She stared at him blankly for a moment before looking back down to her plate—bits of mushy pancake swimming in syrup. "Oh, yeah—I'm done." He snorted as he took her plate and washed it.

She pinched her palms with her nails—glaring at his back. _Glad to see you're going back into jerk-mode._ She sighed softly. "We should return that suit. It's a rental."

"We have three days to return it," he said as he scrubbed the dishes.

She glared at his back some more—hoping to burn holes. "Fine. Then I'll return it myself." She stood up and went to the hallway closet—dragging the bag out that held his suit.

She turned around and found Peter staring her down from the other end of the hallway—arms crossed. "What are you doing?"

She scoffed—brushing past him, ignoring the warmth that radiated through her as their skin connected. "I just told you."

"You don't have to do that."

She turned to face him—eyes narrowed. "I know. But I can't—I won't stay in this apartment right now. I need fresh air." She spun on her heel and grabbed her keys—stalking out of the door. She stifled a small smirk when she heard him mutter something under his breath—his footsteps trailing behind her.

* * *

Tris leaned on the attendant's desk as she watched Peter deliver the suit to Malcolm—the two talking animatedly about something.

"Is he your boyfriend?"

Tris blinked rapidly before turning back to the attendant—his smile wide and sweet. She shook her head slightly. "No."

She turned back to face Peter—eyebrow raised. _That would be something. If we actually dated._ She scoffed mentally. _He'd never want me._

"Would you like to go out sometime?"

Tris' eyes grew wide as she turned back to the attendant. She looked him over—his light-brown hair gleaming in the sun. He had clear-blue eyes and a splatter of light freckles over his cheeks. _He is cute._ She looked at his nametag. _Jasper._ She smiled at him, mouth opened when Peter called over to her.

She turned her head and found him dancing on the chair—Malcolm trying to drag him down while laughing. She couldn't help the laughter that burst through her lips as Peter wiggled his butt. She smiled as she noticed his eyes narrow at the attandant behind her. She turned back around and saw he was holding a piece of paper to her. "It's my number," he said with a wink.

Tris sighed before shaking her head. She bit her lip, not wanting to be rude to the guy. She grabbed his number and put it in her pocket. _Remember to throw it out later._

She felt warmth radiate through her as Peter stood beside her—eyes locked on Jasper. Jasper gave him a smug smile and Tris chewed on her lip to hide her smile as Peter's face grew red and he puffed out his chest. "Thanks, Jasper," Tris said—Jasper giving her a broad smile and ignoring Peter.

She felt Peter stiffen beside her as they walked out. "What was that about?" Peter asked as they walked down the sidewalk—Peter casting dirty glances back to the store.

Tris raised her eyebrows as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He shook his head before withdrawing his hand—ears going red. She rolled her eyes before staring straight ahead. "He asked me out."

"He asked you out?" She felt Peter's eyes on her.

"Yep," she said, popping the 'p.' She cast him a small glance, a wicked smile on her face. "He gave me his number, too."

Peter chuckled softly as she walked ahead of him. "Wait. What?" He jogged to catch up with her, pulling her to a stop. She tilted her head at him as he stared her down—glaring daggers. "You have his number?" She nodded slowly. "You kept it?"

"Well, I wasn't going to throw it out right in front of him."

Peter nodded slowly. "You are though. Right?"

"I am what?" she asked as she started to walk again—Peter right next to her.

"You're going to throw it out. I mean, you're not going to call the guy, right?"

 _Why do you care?_ She shrugged her shoulders. "He is cute." She chuckled softly as he growled low in his throat. "Are you hungry?"

He snorted. "I could eat." Tris smiled softly as she led him to her favorite café . She reached for the doorhandle when he stepped around her—opening the door for her. "Stiffs first." She rolled her eyes as she stalked in, Peter behind her.

"Hello, Ms. Prior," the hostess said. "Lunch for two?"

"Hey Selena. It's Tris—and yes, lunch for two."

"Right this way," Selena said—her red hair straying from her sloppy bun. They sat down at a booth and Selena hald out one menu. "The usual?" Tris nodded sheepishly while Selena beamed at her—handing the menu to Peter. "Corrie will be your waitress. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Sweet tea," Peter said as he looked over the menu.

"I'll have the same," Tris said. She watched Peter look over his options. "They're known for their muffins. The chocolate chunk ones are the best."

Peter glanced up to her—eyebrow raised. "Sounds good to me. So this is a café where waitresses actually bring you food? Instead of standing in line and ordering?" Tris nodded as Corrie brought their drinks—placing a huge chocolate chunk muffin in front of Tris. "That's all for you? That's as big as your face." Tris blushed slightly before kicking him under the table—Corrie's green eyes going wide. "Sorry," Peter chuckled before turning to the waitress. "I'll have the same." Corrie nodded softly before heading out. "What?"

"You're such an ass."

"True," he said as he sipped his drink.

"But at least you're talking to me." Tris bit her lip as she realized she said that out loud—Peter's body going rigid. "Sorry." _Wait, why am I apologizing?_

He shrugged it off, shaking his head. He opened his mouth to speak as Corrie dropped his muffin in front of him. He smiled at her before ripping off a piece of his muffin and popping it into his mouth. He closed his eyes. "That is really good."

Tris chewed on her muffin, her tongue dancing in her mouth. "I know."

Tris was enjoying her food when something smacked her in the face. She flashed her eyes to Peter—a smirk on his face and a crumbled chunk of muffin in his hand. She shook her head—getting the crumbs from her hair. "Don't start."

"Can't take the heat?"

Tris rolled her eyes before pointing her finger out. Peter followed her index finger to a waitress who was glaring daggers at him. He shrugged his shoulders as he turned back to face her, a questioning look on his face. "See that waitress?" Peter nodded. "She'll stab your eye out if you play with your food." Tris beamed at him as he sent an icy glare to her.

Peter was chewing idly when he looked up to Tris. "So how do you pay for it all?"

"Pay for what?"

"Everything. Food, the apartment, clothes—you don't have a job as far as I can tell."

Tris sighed softly. "My money is from the war." She stiffened, chewing on her lower lip. "It's like a _hero's allowance."_ Peter nodded softly as they got up—Tris walking to the cashier, Peter lingering a few paces behind.

They walked out of the café in silence—Peter's arm close enough to touch but still too far away in Tris' mind. She sighed as they padded down the sidewalk. _Maybe this is as good as it'll get. This weird friendship._ She chewed her lip. _I can't push it—I can't lose Peter, too._ She scoffed mentally. _Never thought I'd be thinking that about Peter._

She gasped as she felt Peter's arm snake around her. She cast a curious glance to him and he nodded his head in front of them. She turned and found herself staring at an elderly couple. "I'm sorry, I was lost in my own little world."

"It's alright, dearie," the woman said, a wide smile on her face. Her gleaming eyes glanced between Tris and Peter, her smile growing wider—red lipstick flaking at the edges. "You make a cute couple."

Her husband, Tris assumed, grasped her hand and began to lead her away. Tris opened her mouth to correct her—fearing her silence on the matter would piss Peter off—when he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Thanks," he said with a smile, pulling Tris to him. Tris smiled at the couple as they walked off—leaning into Peter, enjoying his warmth for the moment she had.

* * *

Tris sat on her sofa watching Peter flitter about her apartment, cleaning this and that. He swept up her hardwood floors and scrubbed her counters.

She sighed as he dusted, sneezing as the dust swirled in the air. "Peter, can I ask you something?"

She watched him stiffen slightly before nodding. "Sure."

"How long do you plan on staying here?"

She watched his body go rigid and she chewed on her lower lip. He turned around slowly, placing the cloth on the counter with great care. Her stomach dropped as he faced her—eyes dark.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Tris tilted her head, confusion crossing her face. "What?"

"It's okay. I get it—I can go."

"Peter, that's not what I—"

"Now that the wedding is over, you don't need me. You helped me, I helped you. We're square, right?"

Tris narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"I can just vanish—I mean, we never really liked each other to begin with. I'm not sure why I'm still here." He smirked at her, eyes holding a dark glint.

Tris felt anger boiling beneath her skin before she shot up from the couch. "Why are you still here, Peter?" She watched him flinch slightly as she got in his face—slamming her index finger into his chest. "You don't get to do this. Try to kiss me and then deny me when I try to kiss back." She watched him stiffen, fists clenched. "You don't get to ignore me and then get jealous of some store clerk. Then, we have a lovely conversation and now you're back to this! You're nothing but an asshole—always were. You see what you want and you do whatever it takes to get it, huh?" He snorted at that, muttering something under his breath—too low for Tris to hear. "So you want to leave? Then go! I don't need you here." _I want you here._ "Get the fuck out!"

He smacked her finger away—stepping towards her. Tris swallowed hard as he backed her against the wall—jaw clenched. "You want me gone?!"

She stood her ground—eyes locking with his. "Ye—" She couldn't finish the sentence when he captured her lips in his. His lips were warm against hers as they molded together. "What are you doing?" she asked, voice slightly breathless.

He rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed. "I don't want to be your mistake."

Tris chewed on her lower lip when she reached out to caress his face. He opened his eyes as she held onto him. "I don't regret you." He opened his mouth to speak but she didn't let him. She yanked his face down to hers—teeth clacking together before their lips found their rhythm.

She moaned as his hands gripped her hips—his tongue slipping into her mouth. Their tongues danced together—warm and passionate. He hoised her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He pushed her into the wall, his body pressing against hers—hard. She moaned softly—dragging her nails down his scalp, tugging on his hair. He growled low in his throat as he lifted her away from the wall—carrying her down the hallway.

* * *

 **:) Love me? Hahaha, hope you enjoyed that one! It's defintely getting another chapter, might get two or three more. Idk. 8-10 it looks like, depends on what I get done with them.**

 **Remember to follow/favorite/review; do the lovelt things you do!**

 **Until next time, bye-bye! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Here is chapter 6! Sorry for the wait, I changed some things around because I wasn't happy with the first draft.**

 **So I got a review on this chapter that I can't respond to because it's a guest review. But it really confused me because the person was hoping for Fourtis. Did I make a mistake somewhere that made it seem like this was a Fourtris story?**

 **For one thing: Four is married to Hannah Davis (my oc) Sooooo, he isn't with Tris anymore. That happened in chapter 4...in chapter 5 Peter and Tris make out and go to the bedroom to have sexy times...so here we are, 6 chapters in and you're hoping for something else? I can understand it if I had a love triangle thing going on but that's not the case. (I hate love triangles) Tris and Four are done and her love interest is only Peter. I can't even count Jasper because he's just there for plot (that'll happen later).**

 **Second: Check the pairings of the stories you click on. I have Peter paired with Tris because this is Petris. I have Four paired with an OC because he's married to said OC. Is that difficult to get? I have it in the description box that Tris and Four are no longer together.**

 **So please, if 6 chapters in-for whatever reason, you still think this is a Fourtris story; it's not. Stop reading and read something else so my writing doesn't disappoint you because this is a Petris Fic. I think I've stated it enough times now, it's like beating a dead horse.**

 **I'm sorry if that came across as mean. I was just super confused because I thought I made it clear this was a Petris fic.**

 **This is set after Allegiant**

 **This is slightly AU**

 **Characters may be ooc at times/during specific situations**

 **I do not own Divergent or any related characters or situations; just my oc's**

 **This is rated M: strong language and sexual content**

 **warning: this chapter has sexual content. I repeat, it has sexual content. If that is not to your liking, I suggest reading something else. :p**

 **The scene in italics is a flashback (not to be confused with thoughts. Flashbacks are all in italics, narrative included)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Tris woke up with a strange warmth wrapped around her. Sighing, she arched her back slightly—gasping when arms tightened around her. She turned around as softly as she could—eyes roaming over Peter's sleeping form.

He looked so serene—features soft and gleaming in the morning sun. Tris' lips tugged up at the ends as their naked bodies pressed against one another—heat flushing her cheeks.

She closed her eyes as memories of the previous night flooded her brain. She remembered his hand pinning her wrists above her head as he stripped her clothes away—his eyes roaming over every inch of her skin. Tris bit her lip as she recalled his hands rubbing down her body—his soft lips peppering kisses down to her thighs.

 _A soft sigh escaped her as his lips circled her heat—his hands gripping her thighs and hoisting her closer to him. She shivered as he nipped her inner thighs, blowing cool air over her sensitive folds._

 _"Peter," she warned, her voice slightly breathy from his teasing. He gave her a wry smile before planting a chaste kiss to her lower lips—his tongue darting out to taste her. She shivered beneath him—her fingers gripping the sheets as her legs fell open for him. He rubbed his hands up and down her thighs—goosebumps prickling her flesh. His tongue stroked her—hitting her clit. A soft moan fell from her lips—her hands reaching out to pull him closer. He growled—vibrations tickling her from the inside. "Peter," she whimpered as he pinned her hands down._

 _He drew back to her, tongue barely gracing her and she bucked her hips up. She felt him smirk against her skin—his tongue doing a quick swirl around before retreating. Her fingers had the sheets in a grip of death as she swiveled her hips to him—not able to rub her thighs together for friction. Without warning, his mouth latched onto her—a gasp escaping her as he sucked on her lower lips._

 _Tris arched into him as he swirled his tongue around—flicking her bundle of nerves. She cried out, biting her lips to stifle a moan. Her toes curled as he plunged deeper inside her—tasting every inch of her. His moan vibrated to her core—tingles shooting up her spine. Her walls began to tremble and her head lulled back onto the pillow—heavy-lidded eyes and slightly parted lips. "Peter," she moaned as he gripped her hips tighter—her body shaking before him as her orgasm washed over her._

Tris was shaken from her memories as warmth spread over her neck—Peter planting open-mouth kisses on her skin. She closed her eyes, a smile on her lips as she leaned into him—his body hovering over hers.

"Good morning," he whispered against her skin.

A soft chuckle escaped her lips as he trailed his kisses up her neck—teeth nipping at her earlobe. He peppered kisses along her jawline before claiming her mouth with his—tongues dancing together.

He ran his tongue along the inside of her teeth before nipping her lower lip—a small moan sounding from Tris. He leaned back and stared at her—his eyes sleepy and a small smile on his lips.

"Good morning," she whispered back as Peter leaned back on the bed—pulling her to his chest.

"What's the plan for today?" he asked through a yawn—his hand rubbing her arm idly.

She smiled softly. "We need to go grocery shopping—I'm running out of food."

He snorted. "You're no fun." He puffed out his lower lip and she smacked his chest playfully—his hand catching hers and lacing their fingers together. Tris rested her head on his chest—a sigh on her lips.

 _What are we?_ Words died in her throat as she listened to his heartbeat drumming in her ear.

* * *

Tris and Peter made their way down to the grocery store—an old farm by Amity that was renovated. _Most of the workers used to be Amity_ , Tris noted as she and Peter walked past the smiling faces.

They stalked through the isles, grabbing various items here and there. Tris raised her eyebrows as Peter grabbed a box of chocolate cake mix. His yes met hers and he shugged as he tossed the box in their cart.

"I miss the cake," he quipped as he went to grab frosting from another shelf.

Tris rolled her eyes. "I'm sure this stuff won't be the same."

"Don't be such a downer, Tris," Peter mocked—raising a brow.

They made their way down the pasta isle—Peter scanning the shelves. "What are you looking for?" Tris asked as she watched Peter's eyes search through the boxes—determination coloring his face.

"Got it," he said as his fingers grabbed a box. Tris narrowed her eyes. _Angel hair pasta._ He tossed the package in the box and the two made their way to the next isle—Peter grabbing two jars of red sauce. "I'm going to cook you the best meal ever."

Tris smiled while rolling her eyes. "Spaghetti is the best meal ever?"

He turned to look at her, something almost like pride crossing his features. "Look at that, a Stiff knows about meals other than bland chicken."

Tris glared at him. "I know some stuff, Jerk."

He gave her a wicked smile—eyes gleaming. "I'm sure you do," he drawled. Tris watched his tongue flicker over his lower lip before he shook his head slightly. "Besides—it's going to be the best spaghetti. Ever."

A small chuckle escaped Tris' lips as they moved on—something churning in her lower belly.

"I think we have enough food," Tris said as she struggled to push the cart. Peter rolled his eyes before pushing her out of the way—pushing the cart to the front of the store. "I could have handled it," she said, her arms crossing her chest.

He smirked at her, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm sure," he cooed.

Peter's eyes darkened as Tris glared daggers at him. She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down—his lips slightly parting. She blinked a few times, a familiar pinch in her belly. She shook her head as a throat was being cleared behind her.

She spun around and was staring into clear-blue eyes. His light brown hair seemed darker—more freckles dotting his face. "Jasper, it's nice to see you," Tris said with a smile.

Jasper beamed at her—eyes gleaming. "It's nice to see you too, Tris. It's so weird how we bump into each other," he said with a small laugh.

Tris quirked her brow. _We don't bump into each other,_ she thought as a warmth spread over her side. She glanced up to Peter—his arm brushing hers. His eyes were dark and narrowed—his ears red. She gulped, looking back to Jasper. Jasper was standing tall—an eerie calmness washing over him. Peter gave a small snort. "Because it's so weird to _bump_ into someone at the grocery store." Tris huffed, resisting the urge to smack him for being so rude. She bit her lip as silence stretched between them.

Jasper wore a sickeningly sweet smile, his eyes darkening. "How are you Peter? You and Tris have known each other for a long time, yeah?"

Tris narrowed her eyes. _How do you—_ Her thoughts were cut off as she felt Peter bristle beside her—jaw clenching. _Shit._ "It was nice seeing you, Jasper. But we have to—"

Jasper's face seemed to switch—his smile small and tentative and eyes clear. "Leaving so soon?" Tris gave him a small nod, eyes narrowing as Peter laced their fingers together. Jasper looked to where their hands connected, something unreadable flashing across his face. He looked back up to Tris, eyes locking with her's. "I never did get that call."

Tris felt her mouth run dry—something odd churning in her gut. She glanced up to Peter, his jaw rigid. He looked to her and shrugged slightly, giving her a small nod. She turned back to Jasper, her lips in a thin line. "I'm not interested."

She watched Jasper inhale sharply before walking away—his fists clenching and unclenching with each step. Sighing, she turned back to Peter as they headed to the check-out line. Peter began to put the food on the table—the clerk scanning the items with a bright smile.

"What was that?" Tris asked, her voice low and gruff. She ignored the pointed stares the clerk was giving her—her eyes on Peter.

Peter looked back to Tris—the green and golden flecks in his eyes swirling in the light. "I knew you could handle it." Tris held his gaze, her stomach as light as the clouds.

* * *

Tris huffed as Peter put the groceries away—trying to grab something only for Peter to snatch it away and give her a pointed look.

"I can put my own groceries away," Tris barked, anger itching beneath her skin.

Peter laughed softly as he put the items away. "Couples argue over stupid things and important things—and we argue over who puts the damn groceries away."

Tris froze in place—her heart drumming up her throat. Peter cast a wary glance to her. "What?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Peter shook his head. "People. People argue—all the—just relax and take a bath or something. Stop being such a stiff, Stiff," he stammered, heat coloring his neck.

Tris crossed her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed. "You're such an ass," she muttered as she stood in the hallway.

Peter was taking the box of pasta out, placing it on the counter as he cast a short glance to Tris. "Are you going to stand there all pouty?"

Tris jutted her chin out, her shoulders squared. "Maybe."

Peter quirked an eyebrow at her as he filled a pot with water. He placed it on the stovetop and turned up the heat—waiting for it to boil. Tris watched as steam gathered around the kitchen—the air getting hot. Her eyes widened a little as Peter took of his shirt—his skin glistening. He smirked as her eyes trailed up his body—locking with his.

"Like what you see?"

Tris chewed on her lower lip before nodding slowly—her eyes dark. "I might take that bath after all." She emphasized each word—lips twitching up at the ends.

She watched his pupils dilate slightly, his throat swallowing hard. "I have to watch the water—wait for it to boil."

Tris leaned against the wall, her hips swaying slightly. She watched his eyes follow her movements. "A watched pot never boils." She smirked before turning away, her fingertips lifting her shirt up as she went into the bathroom.

She shut the door and braced herself against the cold wood—hearing his faint murmurs from the kitchen. She bit her lip as she smirked, peeling off the rest of her clothes.

Tris slid the shower door open as she set the temperature for the bath, hot water flowing into the tub. She ran her hands beneath the water, watching the droplets trickle down her skin before she plugged the drain. She grabbed the bubble bath that Christina had gotten her. She popped the lid open and brought it to her nose, inhaling softly. _Chocolate strawberry._ A soft moan escaped her lips as she poured the liquid into the tub—bubbles forming in the water as the sweet scent encased her.

She closed her eyes and listened to the water rushing from the faucet. It wasn't exactly like the water from the chasm but it was close enough—the water splashing up from the porcelain tub. She opened her eyes slowly—the steam spiraling through the air. She rubbed her hands over her arms as she stalked to the tub.

She stepped in gingerly—the hot water stinging her skin slightly. She hissed as she slipped into the tub—the water splashing around the sides.

"You okay in there?" a faint voice asked.

Tris bit her lip, watching the soft bubbles cover her body. "I'm perfect," she called, voice as light and breathy as she could manage. She snorted to herself. _What am I doing? I don't act like this._

She shook her head as she grabbed her shampoo, pouring the content into her palm as a soft creak sounded in the room. Her eyes darted to the door—Peter standing in the doorway. She tilted her head to the side, watching his eyes roam over her.

He walked in and closed the door—his chest rising and falling a bit quicker than normal. "Don't stop," he said, voice low. He was still shirtless as he took off his pants, standing there in his boxers. Tris felt heat color her cheeks as she trailed her eyes over his body.

Tris took a deep breath as she lathered her hair—eyes closing as her fingernails grazed her skin. She massaged her scalp, a soft moan escaping her lips as she worked the shampoo into her hair—imagining Peter's hands on her instead. She opened her eyes and reached for the cup to rinse her hair when Peter stopped her. "Peter—" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he cut her off with a sharp look.

He dipped the cup into the water, a small hiss coming from him as the hot bath met his skin. Tris watched his throat swallow, her own breath hitching as he drew the cup over her head—letting the water trickle through her hair. He repeated the process a few times before his other hand worked into her drenched locks—fingers massaging her scalp. She sighed as she leaned into him—her shoulders slumping.

He put the cup down and she grabbed the conditioner, locking eyes with his as she opened the cap. Peter put his palm out before her and she quirked an eyebrow at him before pouring the contents into his hand. He rubbed his hands together before working them into her hair—her head lulling back into him.

His fingertips massaged her scalp, nails digging into her skin. She hissed with pleasure, eyes closed as he lathered her hair with the condintioner. Her lips turned down at the ends slightly when his hands left hers. Then the hot water was running over her head once more. She tilted her head back as he worked the substance from her hair—fingers pulling and massaging.

"Where's your body wash?" Peter asked, voice husky.

Tris went to grab it, eyes on him. "Aren't you supposed to be cooking?"

He gave her a wry grin. "It's fine—it's turned off and the pot is still hot."

She inhaled sharply as she grabbed her pouf, lathering it in her soap. She began to rub it on her arms when Peter grabbed her hand, stilling her. "What are you doing?"

He quirked an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. "I want you to stand up." She took a shaky breath as she stood up slowly—water cascading down her body. Goosebumps prickled her skin as the warmth left her. Tris shivered, wanting to wrap her arms around herself. She resisted the urge and began to wash herself when Peter shook his head again. She huffed, eyes narrowed. He held out his hand. "Give it here."

She chewed on her lower lip as she handed him her pouf, steping closer to the edge so he could reach. He wiped across her shoulders, going down each arm slowly. She shivered as he skimmed over her breasts, pressing into her chest softly. She watched his eyes darken, pupils blowing out as he traced her body—watching the suds drip down her skin. He got on his knees as he dragged the pouf down her stomach, skimming past her heat. She shuddered involuntarily, a smirk on his lips.

He washed down her thighs, his lips slightly parted as he watched the soap cover her legs. He glanced up to her, panting softly. He motioned for her to turn around—Tris' eyes noticing how tight his boxers were around him.

She turned her back to him, feeling him wash across her neck—dragging down the backs of her arms. The soap trickled down her spine as he washed her back, rubbing in small circles. He washed up her legs, running over her thighs. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth as he snaked under her, gracing her sensitive folds. She spread her legs open as he cleaned her there, before running the soapy lather over her backside.

He squeezed the pouf out and tossed it aside. "Fuck it," he muttered under his breath as Tris heard the rustle of fabric and a small splash. She barely had time to turn around before he wrapped her in his arms. He connected their lips as he lowered her down—the water spilling on the floor as the bubbles curled around them.

Their lips molded together, tongues dancing with one another as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He nipped her lower lip, guiding her legs around his waist. They stared into each other's eyes as he thrust into her, pausing to let her adjust. She chewed on her lower lip, tears prickling her eyes. Peter wiped the tears away with his thumb as he waited for her. She swiveled her hips and he began to move inside her.

This felt different to Tris—the hot water tingling their skin and the bubbles foaming around them. Their bodies connected under the water—their movments splashing some onto the bathroom floor every now and then.

Tris moaned, his fingers pinching her bundle of nerves. She arched into him, his throbbing member plunging deeper. He peppered kisses on her neck, nipping here and there. He grunted with each thrust—the hand on her hip threatening to leave bruises. She bucked into him, meeting each thrust as her walls began to tremble. She let out a soft moan, her body shaking in the water.

Her nails raked over his back—a hiss escaping his lips as he kissed up her jawline. He watched her as she came—her walls tightening around his pulsing member. He watched her heavy-lidded eyes and slightly parted lips—the way her cheeks flushed as moans bubbled up her throat.

He continued to move inside her, slowly, as she rode out her bliss. When her head lulled back to the side of the tub, he rammed back into her—hands clutching her to him tightly as his orgasm quickly approached. He let out a guttural moan, her name on his lips, as he came—their labored breaths mixing together.

They drained the water and wrapped a towel around themselves, drying off. She smiled softly as he wrapped his arms around her—hugging her from the back. He nibbled on her neck as she leaned into him, a sigh on her lips.

"Our dinner is getting cold," he murmured on her neck—hot breath tickling her skin.

"That spaghetti better be damn good," she muttered—a soft chuckle rumbling from his chest—vibrating to her core.

She smiled again before turning around and facing him. _What are we?_ They stared into each other's eyes, something unreadable flashing across his face before she stepped up and captured his lips with hers.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed that one! ;)**

 **Peter and Tris are not officially together together. Peter is still confused and Tris is confused and they won't take the first step to ask what this is because they're afraid of what it'll turn out to be. So don't you worry, things will be getting a bit rocky in the future chapters. But, of course, things will work out...right? ;)**

 **Please remember to follow/favorite/review; do the lovely things you do!**

 **Until next time, bye-bye! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Here is chapter 7! This story is actually starting to take a different turn than what I originally planned...but I like it! I hope you all do.**

 **And I hope you don't hate me for this cliffhanger! The ending is slightly confusing, but I won't be able to explain it until the next chapter wihtout giving anything away. Sorry. PM me if you're realllllly confused and can't wait for the next chapter. :) I hate spoilers but I'll try to explain it the best I can.**

 **This is set after Allegiant/slightly AU**

 **Characters may be ooc at times**

 **Rated M for a reason: strong language and sexual themes/content**

 **I do not own Divergent or any related characters or situatins/just my oc's**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Tris stifled a yawn as she woke up, stretching her limbs out softly. She listened to the pops and cracks her body made, the noise vibrating down to her core. Exhaling through her nose, she turned around—her eyes landing on Peter. She chewed on her lower lip—her stomach tightening at how the other night had gone. Heat crawled up her neck as memories of the bath-tub flooded her brain. She felt a gush of wetness begin to pool down below.

Before she could dwell on it, her heart drummed up her throat. She sighed, remembering how cold he had been after. He had kept his distance after the bathroom fling—eating dinner in silence. They had crawled into bed together—confusion masking his face. She bit her lip, the taste of copper filling her mouth. _He's just as confused about this thing as I am. What are we?_ She cast another glance to Peter.

He laid there, face serene as his chest rose and fell with each breath. A smile crawled across her face as she watched his lips part slightly—a soft snore sounding from him. She leaned in and kissed his nose softly, barely gracing his skin. She inhaled him in—all earth and musk. A familiar pinch was in her lower belly as she hovered over him—peppering kisses down his neck.

She nibbled here and there as she traveled down his bare chest—tongue tracing a line around his rippling muscles. She smirked as he shuddered beneath her—goosebumps following her lead. Tris draped her legs around his waist, pulling her body flush against his as she attacked his body with hot, open-mouthed kisses.

He murmured softly, his voice not fully awake. He shifted under her, sleep lacing his limbs. She felt his body go rigid before leaning into her, his hand drawing circles on her back.

"Good morning," he whispered,

She smiled before drawing her face to his—her lips ghosting over his lips. "Good morning."

She dusted her lips over his again, a growl sounding from his throat as she rocked into him before pulling away. His hands gripped her hips before he flipped them over. Giggles were falling off of her tongue as he gorged on her neck—teeth grazing and tongue soothing. She arched into him, his fingertips tingling her skin with each feather-light touch.

"You're such a tease," Peter whispered in the crook of her neck as she raked her nails down his back. He grunted, his pupils blown out all the way.

"Who's teasing?" They held each other's gazes for a moment before Peter crashed their lips together. It was warm and passionate—their tongues swirling together. Peter had snaked his hand down her body, fingertips circling her sensitive folds, when a noise sounded from her nightstand. Tris and Peter groaned as she shimmied out from under him. She grabbed her cell phone and huffed. "Christina."

Peter grumbled. "Don't answer it." Tris gave him a pointed look and he puffed out his lower lip. "Please? Let's just have some fun." Peter leaned in and nibbled on her earlobe. Tris sighed softly before she shook her head, pulling away from him. Before he could protest more, she answered the call.

"Hey, Christina. What's up?" She cast a glance to Peter, his sulking form sitting on the edge of the bed.

 _"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?"_

Tris chewed on her lip. "Today?" She watched Peter's head snap to her—his eyebrow raised.

 _"I haven't seen you since the Wedding-From-Hell."_ Peter was leaning into Tris, trying to listen to their conversation. Glaring daggers, Tris pushed him off—a smirk on her face as he landed on the floor with a loud thud.

"Yeah. We can hang out with you." Peter glowered up at her from his position on the floor, crossing his arms over his chest.

There was a moment of silence, Christina's breathing the only sign that she was still on the other line. _"Peter is still with you?"_

Tris rubbed the back of her neck. "Yes."

 _"Okay. I'll meet you at that place, you know, the one by the old coffee shop?"_

Tris tilted her head to the side as she thought. "The bar?" Peter quirked his eyebrow as he stood up—shaking his head slightly.

 _"I have to get in the shower—no, not that one! I have—I'll text you when I'm on the way. See you guys soon!"_ She hung up before Tris could respond.

Tris laid her phone down on the nightstand, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. She sighed as Peter began to rub his hands down her arms, wrapping around her back. She leaned into his chest, inhaling deeply. "She wants to hang out."

She felt the rumble from his laughter as her head bounced on his chest. "I gathered that much. And at a bar?" She felt his body shift as he leaned down. "It's noon."

Tris smiled softly. "We slept in." She twisted her head so she could look at his face—his dark eyes gleaming. "Do you think you can play nice?"

"If we go, I make no promises that I won't make fun of her or something—she pushes my buttons."

She chewed on her lower lip before she rubbed her hands up his chest—nails grazing his skin. "Where were we?"

Peter's eyes darkened—his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Shouldn't we be getting ready?"

Tris shook her head as she pulled away from him, leaning back in the bed. "She's taking a shower." She smirked. "Sounded like she had company."

Peter raised his brow, his hands linking with Tris'. "I think they have the right idea."

Tris shivered as his thumbs rubbed the tops of her hands—warmth spreading over her skin. "And what idea is that?"

Peter wore a shit-eating grin as he lifted Tris from her bed. "We should probably start getting ready, Tris."

Tris puffed out her lower lip, her feet dragging across the hardwood. "You're no fun." She had repeated his words from the other day, a giggle on her lips as he embraced her tightly—his lips on her neck.

His hot breath tickled her ear as he leaned in close. "How about we start with a shower?"

* * *

Tris and Peter walked into the pub, a few people giving them sidelong glances. "Hey, Tris! Over here!" Christina yelled, waving them over.

Tris smiled as Peter grumbled under his breath, his arm around her waist. Christina narrowed her eyes as they approached the table, a small smirk on her lips. Tris raised her eyebrow and Christina shrugged as Ryan leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. A smirk crossed Tris' lips as heat colored Christina's cheeks.

"Tris! Peter, my man!" Ryan swung his arm over the table to clap Peter's shoulder. "It's good to see you."

Peter and Tris exchanged looks before sitting down at the booth—the leather cushions smooth against their skin. "It's nice to see you, too," Tris said—Ryan's brown eyes gleaming at her.

"We ordered wings for the table—hope you don't mind. Also, feel free to fill up your glasses The whole pitcher is filled with beer," Christina quipped while she put her glass to her lips—tan liquid rushing past. Peter scoffed, earning a small kick from Tris. Christina narrowed her eyes. "Something wrong, Hayes?"

Peter raised his eyebrow. "No. Not at all." He pushed a few peanuts around in the little dish, the crunch echoing in the silence that stretched over the table. "You know—it's just that you always seem to have something to say. Or you always seem to pick everything out for everyone—like you know what's best."

Tris' eyes widened, her stomach freezing over. She opened her mouth to speak, Christina's shrill voice beating her to the punch. "Excuse me? Are you seriously judging _me_ , Butter-knife boy?"

Tris flinched, feeling Peter's frame grow rigid. Sighing, she grabbed Peter's hand—her grip tight as her thumb drew lazy patterns on his skin. _This is far from making fun—this is acting like a prick._ She cast Christina an apologetic look before turning to talk to Peter.

She pulled him away a little, their backs turned to Christina and Ryan. "What was that?" she asked, voice just a whisper.

She watched Peter clench and unclench his jaw. "I don't know. She just ordered the wings as if it were no big deal—she just pisses me off."

Tris quirked her brow. "This is seriously about wings?" She watched Peter shrug before his shoulders slumped, a sigh on his tongue.

"I just—I have a lot on my mind and I took it out on her." Tris and Peter held each other's gaze—an unreadable emotion flashing across his features.

Tris nodded before turning back to the table—Ryan's eyes wide as his fingers fidgeted over his glass. "So, the bar?" Tris said lamely, Christina's eyes locked on Peter. "It's one in the afternoon." Tris sighed. _Tension breaking is not my forte._ She poured some of the golden liquid into her glass, watching the foam bubble at the top.

"It's five o'clock somewhere, right?" Ryan let out a nervous laugh, Tris' body deflating slightly as Peter's body relaxed a little.

"Tris?" Christina asked, eyes snapping to her. "Do you need to go to the bathroom?"

Tris had already brought the cold glass to her lips—the bitter liquid flowing down her throat. She put the glass down quickly, her face contorting as she swallowed the drink. She nodded softly, ignoring Ryan's quiet snickering. The two got up, Christina smacking Ryan in the back of the head. Tris shot a glance back to Peter, his dark eyes on her.

* * *

Christina stared at Tris for a good while, her arms crossed. Tris fidgeted by the counter, moving out of the way when someone would huff and glare angrily while trying to wash their hands.

"What was that?" Christina asked after the bathroom cleared out.

Tris shrugged. "He has a lot on his mind and took it out on you." Christina quirked a delicate brow, exhaling loudly through her nose. "He's an asshole?"

Christina snorted. "We all knew that." She sighed. "I just don't appreciate your boyfriend talking to me like that."

Tris stiffened. "I'm sorry he acted like that." Christina picked at her nails, muttering under her breath. "And he isn't my boyfriend."

Christina turned to her, delicate eyebrow raised. She scoffed. "Did you tell _him_ that?"

Tris blushed, chewing on her lower lip. "We haven't exactly talked about anything. I don't really know where we stand—what we are." Christina eyed Tris, her head tilted in thought.

"But?" Christina prompted, annoyance coloring her features.

Tris inhaled sharply. "We—well, we—sort of—" Christina's face lit up as Tris fumbled for words—a squeal on her tongue.

"You totally had sex!"

Tris' eyes widened as she looked around the empty bathroom—Christina rolling her eyes as she beamed at her friend.

"Yeah—we did."

Christina stared at her, scoffing slightly. "And?" Tris' breath hitched in her throat. "Details. I want details."

Tris chewed on her lower lip. "I thought you hated Peter?"

Christina snorted as she looked at herself in the mirror. "I do. He's an arrogant jerk with an inflated ego and a tendancy to cause harm to others." She looked at Tris through the mirror, shrugging her shoulders. "Sorry—old habits. So, tell me."

Tris sighed softly as she hopped up on the sink counter—her fingers clutching to the cool marble. "Well, the day after the wedding I came to apologize to him for the other night—"

"Wait! What happened the other night?"

Tris huffed, glaring at Christina. "I tried to sleep with him." Christina gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. "I was drunk! And mad and lonely and he had tried to kiss me the other day." Tris sighed. "He turned me down—and the next day I apologized. Then we had an okay day—we returned the suit and had lunch. Then we got home and had a stupid fight about—I don't even remember—and then, he just kissed me." Tris cast a glance to Christina—her dark eyes wide and gleaming. "Then he took me to the bedroom and—kissed me again." Christina tilted her head, Tris' eyes rolling. "Down there."

"Is that it? Please tell me there's more."

Tris shrugged her shoulders, heat coloring the back of her neck. "There was the bubble-bath." Christina sighed, leaning against the tiled wall—a small smile on her lips. "And the shower before coming here." Christina's eyes darkened, a wry grin on her lips.

"You totally heard Ryan, didn't you?"

Tris nodded sheepishly. "Are you two a couple?"

Christina shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah—we're taking things slow. I like him—but—I'm not sure I'm ready for something more than casual right now." Tris nodded her head, her throat running dry. "You should talk to Peter."

Tris shook her head. "But—I don't want to—"

"Lose what you have?" Christina supplied for her. She sighed softly. "But what about the chance for something more?"

Tris exhaled slowly. "When did you get so deep?"

Christina giggled softly. "I have _always_ been deep, my friend." Tris hopped off the sink and the two embraced, Christina pressing her soft lips to Tris' cheek. "I mean it, Tris. You can wait for him to choose—or you can make a move."

Tris and Christina left the bathroom, Tris' veins running cold. She felt Christina's warmth leave her as she made her way back to the table. Tris' eyes weren't focused on her—they were focused on Peter.

There was some girl—red or brown hair, Tris couldn't tell—all over him. Tris watched her hips sway about—her fingers dancing on his shoulder. She narrowed her eyes, Peter seemingly not interested in the girl. The sight made Tris' blood boil nonetheless.

She stomped her way through the crowd when a hand grabbed her, forcing her to spin around. She was met with clear-blue eyes and light bown hair. _Those eyes seem so familiar,_ she thought as she looked at Jasper—another name on her tongue.

"It's nice to see you, again," Jasper said, a smile on his face.

Tris bristled. "It's nice to see you, too."

"Would you like a drink?" Jasper asked, a glass in his hand. He pushed it towards her—the black liquid bubbling.

Tris shook her head. "No—thank you, but I—"

"Here," he said as he handed her the glass. He gave her a wry grin. "It's just soda." He raised his own glass in a mock toast and drank—his eyes on her.

Tris stared at him, her stomach doing flips. She pressed the glass to her lips and took a tentative sip—the sweet liquid flowing down her throat. She handed the glass back to Jasper, her throat tingling. She felt the room sway a little, her head light. She felt arms on her—strong and warm.

She cast a quick glance, his hair dark in the shadows. _Peter?_ She didn't have time to think about it as she was being pulled away—the dark room rushing beneath her feet.

* * *

Tris was walking—feeling like she was floating. She cast a quick glance around her—the world swaying and darkness ebbing her vision away. She sighed loudly, shutting her eyes against the noise. Voices were all around her—drowning her.

"What was up with that creep?" The voice sounded like Ryan—her thoughts echoing his words.

"Jasper? He's just some weirdo." _Peter,_ Tris thought—her heart beating against her ribcage.

"Enough about him—what was with that girl?" Christina's voice wasn't as shrill as it should have been.

"What girl?" Peter asked, his voice oddly meek.

"Tris saw you flirting with some girl." Christina's voice seemed far away—the voices mixing with one another. Tris inhaled sharply—her world beginning to shake wildly.

Hands were on her—holding her tightly. Tris sighed, confusion filling her veins. The hands felt like Peter's—but then they didn't. She tried to lean into him, inhaling his scent. Her breath hitched up in her throat—his scent all wrong. It wasn't earth and musk—it was like a warm breeze.

She shook her head, blinking her eyes open. She watched the buildings fly by—the old Erudite building just past the one they entered. She swallowed hard—her throat tight and dry. "Peter?" she asked, her voise hoarse.

"Don't talk now—it'll be over soon." The voice seemed far away again as Tris tried to blink her vision clear—everything blurring in and out.

The cold steel of the chair sent shivers up her spine as her world spun around—the building a blur of walls and cracks. She blinked a few times, darkness at the edge of her vision. Her breath hitched in her throat. The last thing she saw before her world blacked out was a freckled nose and a beaming smile.

* * *

 **I am a monster! I know...I'm sorry...but you'll have to wait for the next chapter!**

 **Anyway, please follow/favorite/review; do the lovely things you do!**

 **Until next time, bye-bye! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry it took so long:( also, so sorry this never crossed my mind, but shout out to harrypotter5! Her story, new beginnings, (one of the best petris fics out there in my opinion) has definitely inspired this story. Especially since, well I mostly ship Eris and I've never done a petris fic before lol. So check out her story and her sequel, the one in peter's POV. There are a few other fics I drew inspiration from, but this is just me working off of a request I was given :)**

 **Also, can't we ship things in peace? Like, I can ship Eris and Petris and Fourtris equally in their own fics, why can't you? Stop pooping on fics. I see it all the time, in my comment sections and in other's. It's so annoying because writers write these stories for a reason. We have that right. You don't _have_ to read it. You have that right. Being rude and making Fourtris shippers seem like a cult? Who benefits?**

 **Like if you want to read Fourtris, don't look up a story that obviously ships Tris with someone else. There's a billion awesome Fourtris fics on here...and then there's the canon series. If you like my writing style, then give me a Fourtris prompt. I would honor that ship in that _specific_ fic just as I honor Petris here and Eris in other fics and so on. It's simple as pie. I just wanna comment this on like all of the stories I see people crapping on because it's not _their_ ship. Like no one told you to read it, move on. It's not our loss. it's a loss to everyone when writers stop writing because people don't know how not to be rude and they no longer have the desire to write because their outlet has been leeched from them by trolls. It sucks. should be a family. No more hate hate hate. I'm pretty sure three of my favorite authors on here no longer write because of evil trolls. **

**Anyway. That's what I get for hanging out with my Italian "cousins" and their love for rants.**

 **This is set after Allegiant**

 **Rated M: strong language/sexual content (though none in this chapter, sorry)/darker themes**

 **Characters may be ooc during certain situations**

 **I do not own Divergent or any related characters or situations**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Tris woke up in darkness. Her breath hitched up in her throat as her screams died on her tongue—something sealing her mouth shut. She inhaled quickly, blinking against the darkness. _I'm blindfolded,_ she concluded when the darkness wouldn't fade away.

She twisted her hands, something like rope tying them together. She struggled against the retraints, metal scraping against cement. She settled back in a huff—the metal creaking as she steadied her breathing. _It's okay. It's going to be okay. Just—what do you remember?_

She thought back, her brain throbbing as her mind cleared away the cobwebs. Her throat ran dry when she remembered the bar—Jasper handing her something. _A drink._ Her skin ran cold, goosebumps dotting her flesh. _He must have put something in it._ She felt tears burning behind her eyes. _Why?_

She tired to think of some reason—but fell short. He didn't seem like a threat—just some kid with a crush. _An obsession, maybe?_ She sighed into the tape—heat spilling over her cheeks. Closing her eyes, she listened to the sounds in the room. The air was mostly quiet, save for the gentle pitter-patter of water droplets. _Think, Tris._ She strained her mind—trying to remember where he had taken her. The building had seemed unfamiliar—just some run down place. She dug her fingernails into her palm—a frustrated scream on the tip of her tongue.

Her heart crawled up her throat. _Erudite. I remember seeing Erudite._ She cursed herself for not remembering anything about this place. She didn't have time to dwell on it as a creak sounded through the room.

Her body stiffened—footfalls padding towards her. She held her breath, skin itching as hands were on her. Fingers skimmed down her arms, tugging on the ropes. Then, they traced up her neck, tapping on her cheek idly before ripping the blindfold off.

Tris blinked rapidly—her vision blurry and bright as her eyes adjusted. Shaking her head slightly, she furrowed her brows—Jasper's smiling face staring at her. "Are you comfortable?" He tilted his head to the side as if to listen, his smile faltering slightly when no muffled sounds echoed around him. "I'm glad." Tris held his gaze—her blood boiling beneath her skin. "Do you want to know why I have you here?" She made no move to shake her head or nod, his eye twitching at her silence. "You're Beatice Prior!" His voice rang out in the empty room. Tris averted her gaze—scoping out her surroundings. The room was damp and dirty—not even one critter brave enough to grace the halls. She was snapped back to Jasper when he grabbed her chin, fingernails pinching her cheeks. She winced, a soft murmur sounding from her. A wide grin graced his lips as he brought his face closer to hers—her eyes counting the freckles dotting his skin. "You're our hero. You saved us all from the faction system," he laughed—blue eyes mad. He peeled off the tape slowly—her skin rippling under the glue. "You must be thirsty." He pressed a canteen to her lips, lifting it until the cool water flowed down her throat. She glared at him as she drank, a whimper on her tongue as he pulled the canteen away.

She took a deep breath, her chest heaving as she darted her tongue across her lips—savoring each drop. She swallowed hard, her throat sore as thirst overcame her once more. "You're not going to get away with this." Her voice was much more calm than she felt—steady against her beating heart. "Peter will—"

"Find you? If he did, it wouldn't be much of a problem." He gave a small laugh. "But he doesn't care about you. He's using you." He puffed out his lower lip in a mock pout as Tris' stomach sank. He got down on her level and she tried to put her face back in a neutral expression—eyes hard. "He had nothing—because of you. You took away the faction system and he fell—with everyone else. Struggling in this _society._ Though, you did make it right with him. Helping him. How could you do it?" He tilted his head, eyebrows furrowed. "He tried to kill you—twice, right? And then you just save him? And you continue to care for him—though he has no job or money. He has nothing. Why?"

She chewed on her lower lip, words bubbling up her throat. "Fuck you."

He quirked his brow. "That's the Dauntless in you, I see." He gave a small laugh. "I suppose it's love? Maybe a false love—this obsession to have someone, anyone, since, well—since Four. He was a nice guy." Tris lunged in her seat—her body flailing against her restraints. The metal scraped and creaked—the world shifting sideways. She landed on her shoulder, sharp pain shooting down her arm. Jasper peered over her, shaking his head softly. "You have to work on that temper of yours, Beatrice." He lifted her up slowly, fingers digging into her skin.

"My name is Tris."

He gave her a small smile. "Of course it is."

"What do you want with me?" Tris' jaw was rigid, her body fighting back the hot tears that were prickling behind her eyes.

He smiled before leaning in closer, something unreadable flashing across his face. He lingered there for a moment, his hot breath pelting her skin. She shivered back, his eyes narrowing before he pulled away. "You must be hungry, yeah?"

Tris stared at him blankly as he went out the door—returning with a small basket. He placed it on the floor, his hands grasping a bruised peach. He dusted it off before bringing it to her lips. He nodded for her to bite it, her lips sealing shut.

He rolled his eyes, pressing the fruit to her skin—the sweet smell all around her. She held her breath, her stomach grumbling as he held the peach under her nose. Sighing, he took it away—placing it back in the basket by her feet—just out of her reach.

"You really should eat."

"Fuck you."

He shrugged his shoulders before he ripped another piece of tape off to put over her mouth—the stretching sound piercing her ear drums. Tris jutted her chin out, her stomach plummeting as he hovered the tape over her mouth. He looked torn for a moment before he shook his head, placing the tape over her lips.

"The more you resist the truth—the worse it will be for you," he whispered before tying the blindfold over her eyes.

Tris blinked—her world bathed in darkness once more as the metal door slammed shut. The pitter-patter of tiny water droplets and the sweet smelling peach the only things tying her to reality.

* * *

It was hard to keep her head up—neck and shoulders strained. Her body was shaking as her head lulled forward, body slumped in the chair. _I need to get out of here._ She tried to keep her breathing to a minimum—her stomach lurching every time that sweet aroma wafted to her nostrils. _I just need to hold on—break free._

She twisted her hands against the rope—her skin raw and red, blood dotting her scraped flesh. She swallowed hard—her mouth dry as tears prickled in her eyes. She heard the clanging of the door, her eyes blinking back the tears. _I will not cry in front of him._

She heard him suck his teeth as he twisted the rope around her hands. She bit back a yelp as his fingers gripped her wrists tightly, his hot breath pelting her ear. "That was naughty, Beatrice," he whispered—a shudder rippling through her as he drew away from her, his lips ghosting over her skin. He peeled the blindfold off—Tris' eyes squinting at the change. She blinked a few times before glaring at him—her lips still sealed. He gave her a small smile before leaning forward—his eyes locked on hers. "You're going to behave, aren't you?" He gave a mock pout—eyes gleaming. "I don't want to have to punish you. That would be a waste of time and effort on both of our parts." He tilted his head as she stared at him—her breathing even. He sighed as he peeled the tape off slowly—wincing in unison with her. "I know it hurts." He gave her a sympathetic smile before grasping the peach.

The fruit still smelled sweet, but its skin was badly bruised—the fuzzy fruit a bit darker. He rubbed it over her lips—the fuzz tickling her as the friction rubbed some of its skin off. She watched Jasper, his face stoic, as the piece of skin flittered to the floor—the golden fruit leaking juices over his fingers.

She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he pressed the fruit to her lips—the inside soft as juices trickled down her chin. She kept her lips sealed, her stomach churning as the aroma surrounded her. He sighed before taking the fruit away and bringing it to his own lips. He quirked his brow as she glared daggers at him—his lips wrapping around the succulent peach. He closed is eyes in ecstacy, moaning softly as he chewed. Tris' stomach felt weightless as her eyes followed the juice droplets flowing down his chin.

He took another big bite—his eyes locked on her. He smiled as he threw the rest of the fruit away—the peach rolling to the corner of the room. She swallowed hard, her heart drumming up her throat as he drew closer to her. "Are you ready to face the truth?" His voice was soft as he stared into her eyes.

 _Those damn eyes,_ she thought. She pursed her lips in thought as he turned around, pacing. She raised her brow before she darted her tongue out—the sweet juice remnants coating her mouth. She closed her eyes as she savored it—her throat twitching in anticipation as grubby hands grabbed her face.

Tris widened her eyes—his face inches from hers. His expression was mostly blank—save for his eyes. They seemed darker—pupils dilated. He closed his eyes as he pressed his lips to hers—lightly. Tris backed away as far as she could, the metal creaking beneath her. His mouth barely skimmed her—the peach taste still on his lips. Shaking his head, he backed off—blinking rapidly. "What do you want from me?!" she spat, her chest heaving as she breathed hard—her arms shaking.

He picked up the canteen and pressed it to her lips, the water flowing down her throat for a moment before he pulled it back. She watched him swallow hard before he tied the blindfold around her once more—her world dark again. _Peter, please hurry,_ her mind pleaded as the tape slipped over her lips.

* * *

Tris' body slumped forward—her ears ringing. The room smelled like mildew and rotten fruit—the pitter-patter of water no longer there to keep Tris company. Her body shuddered in a hiccup—tears flowing down her cheeks freely. _How long have I been here?_ She didn't know what time it was let alone what day. She shut her eyes tightly—tears stinging past her eyelashes as she gave a shuddering breath—her sniffle blocked by the tape.

It hurt to twist her arms, the rope too tight against her wrists. She groaned, her mind drifitng to darker days. _No. I have to get out—get to—why do I need to leave?_ There was a name on her tongue, something bubbling in her blood. She shook her head, an image of a guy—green-brown eyes and hair like a dark halo. _Oh. Peter,_ her mind whirred—stomach clenching. _I need to get out of here!_

She inhaled sharply as she kicked herself back into gear—her breathing even as the door swung open. She listened to his footfalls pad down to her and braced for his fingers to grip her wrists. Her jaw grew rigid as his fingertips dusted over her cheeks—wiping the tears away. Her body tensed as her world shifted—the blindfold falling off. She blinked a few times, his form blurring into veiw.

His expression was unreadable as he trailed his fingertips down her face, caressing her cheek once more. She flinched away, something flashing in his eyes. His lips twitched up at the ends as his fingertips drew closer to her lips—a cry bubbling up her throat as he tore the tape off. She sucked in a deep breath, tears hot against her eyes as her stinging lips tingled from the pain. She gulped as he pressed the canteen to her lips—the water warm against her tongue.

"Are you ready?" His voice was soft as he leaned in close, his fingertips drawing lazy patterns on her shoulder. She resisted the urge to recoil from him, her body strong.

"Why are you doing this?"

He dusted his lips over hers, her gut twisting. "You ruined us."

Her body stiffened slightly and she watched a smirk slither across his face. "What are you talking about?" _Just keep him distracted._ She bit her lip as her eyes darted across the room every now and then—taking in as much detail as she can. _One door—two small windows—one vent._

"You destroyed the faction system." She blinked rapidly, quirking her eyebrow at him. "You and your merry band of _divergents_ fucked everything up!" She watched him pace in front of her—a quiet storm behind his eyes. _One rotten peach—a rusted bucket—this metal chair._ "Everyone had their place and it was working just fine."

Tris narrowed her eyes. "Jeanine was planning on murdering an entire faction! David and the bureau wanted to erase everyone's memories! The entire thing was an experiment—that's not living!" She took a deep breath. "That's not a society."

He tilted his head to the side as he considered her—a smile crossing his face. "Yes, you did save us from that. One hell to another." She was rubbing her wrists softly, hiding her winces as best as she could as the rope ripped her skin. "But you can save us again." He gripped her cheeks, his lips dangerously close to hers. "You can be our hero, again," he whispered before he connected their lips.

She grunted as she flinched away, his fingers pinching her cheeks as he molded his lips to hers. He pulled away, a wry grin on his face as she glared daggers at him. She spat at him—her body shaking in anger. "I will never be _your_ hero."

"Yes, you will. You're going to help me."

"Help you do what?" She was tired—her body slumping in the chair—her anger the only thing keeping her upright.

"Bring the faction system back."

She laughed—a loud cackle bubbling up her throat. "That isn't going to happen."

"It's what's best."

"You're insane. You can't bring the faction system back. One person—you—bringing back something that wasn't even real?"

He shrugged. "One person—you—took down something that wasn't even real." She swallowed hard, her throat dry.

"You're not going to get away with it. Peter—everyone—we'll stop you. And I don't think Peter will show you mercy."

He grinned at her, his cheeks puffing out as his eyes crinkled at the edges. "This is so much bigger than Peter and your so-called friends. Did you know that one of your _friends_ paid me to ask you out?" Tris' body stiffened, her heart beating against her ribcage. "And what of mercy? Beatice, like someone else you knew—I am willing to die for what I believe in." She watched his eyes harden, the smile gone.

Her blood froze in her veins—her heart drumming up her throat. "What did you just say?"

He beamed at her, the coldness gone, as he tied the blindfold around her eyes. His voice was all around her as darkness overcame her vision—tape soon covering her mouth. "And soon, you'll die, too. Just not for what you believe in. You'll die for something better—for our society." She heard a small chuckle escape his lips. "You'll be a martyr."

She listened to his footfalls padding away—the room silent save for her breaths. _Please—someone._

* * *

 **So not much happened in terms of action BUT you got more in terms of Jasper and his crazy-ass. She isn't at Erudite, no. She's in an abandoned building near it-she just remembers passing it.**

 **So she's been set up...or has she? It's a little more complicated but totally simple at the same time xD**

 **Please remember to follow/favorite if you haven't done so already. And review! Leave me your words of wisdom (always nice or constructive! Never rude!)**

 **Until next time, bye-bye! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry this is late, I had started it the night before but then I had to sleep because I had to wake up early for work.**

 **Anyway, this chapter might get confusing. It delves into some psychological-torture that's pretty messed up. I try to keep the readers knowing as much or a little bit more than the characters, so I don't like to give too much away. So, that means you're experiencing this torture with Tris. :)**

 **This is after Allegiant  
Characters may be ooc at times/during certain situations  
Rate M: strong language/mentions of sexual content/dark themes**

 **I do not own Divergent or any related characters/situations; just my oc's**

 **Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Tris' body was numb, her steady breaths the only noise to keep her company. She swallowed hard, her throat dry and lips cracked beneath the tape. She blinked, her eyelids heavy—world dark. _How long have I been here?_

She inhaled sharply, her body tensing as voices peirced her eardrums. She lifted her head up, shaking slightly. _Peter?_ She shut her eyes, the noise consuming her.

 _"Tris!"_ His voice was sharp—a dull throbbing against her skull. " _You have to wake up now!_ "

She wished her mouth wasn't taped because a laugh was bubbling up her throat. _I am awake._

" _Tris, you need to wake up and get out of here!_ " This voice was shrill—a thousand sharp echoes drumming in her ear.

 _Where am I?_

 _"Damn it, Tris! I told you not to give up!"_

Tris wanted to slam her head against the wall as the voices started to build up—encasing her in a cloud of noise. _Leave me alone!_ She felt tears prickling against her eyes, her veins hot as she struggled against the sounds—her arms twisting painfully. _Get out of my head!_

 _"You're never going to make it out."_

The hot tears spilled down her cheeks, a scream silent on her tongue.

 _"Use your brain—think of something!"_

Her wrists twisted and pulled—skin red and raw against the ropes.

 _"You fucked us all—we're ruined because of you."_

She swept her feet back and forth, her toes skimming the floor—the metal scraping against the cement. Words and creaks muddling together—swarming her eardrums in a violent frenzy.

 _"I can't lose you—you're all I have."_

Tris let out a muffled scream as the darkness around her shifted—air rushing past her. Her head smacked against the cement, her skull trobbing and chest heaving. Blinking, she moved her hands—tears prickling her eyes as her trembling wrists moaned in pain. Taking a deep breath, she rubbed her head against the rough floor—her cheek scraping open as color invaded her senses.

She shut her eyes tightly against the brightness—warm liquid streaming from her cheek. Slowly opening her eyes, she huffed—words pounding against her skull in voices that didn't belong to her. She looked about the empty room, her breath hitching up her throat as the metal door began to clank open.

* * *

Tris blinked her eyes awake—darkness enveloping her. She tried to speak, her lips sealed shut. _What is this?_ She tried to wiggle about—her hands and feet not scraping anything solid, something flowing past her skin. She sucked in a deep breath—her body feeling as if she were floating mid-air.

She tried to twist her head, her body motionless in the nothingness that surrounded her. _What's going on?_ She wanted to scream—her throat tensing for the shrill sound that died on her tongue.

She felt empty—devoid of everything. Her heart beat against her ribcage—the frantic sound not even there to give her company. _I am alone._ Her heart crawled up her throat as a sound echoed in the darkness—her head pounding.

"Tris." Anger was sizzling beneath her skin. _Jasper._ "You were very naughty. You tried to escape earlier." Silence passed for a few moments and Tris hated the fact that she wanted to hear his voice—the sound tethering her to reality. "You're being punished. This chamber is really something. It takes away all of the senses. You have nothing to feel, see, hear, smell, or taste. Or anything in between. Soon that water will become numb to you because your body is anchored down to prohibit motion. The design of the weights holding you down is quite something—your body won't be able to feel that they're there. Isn't that amazing?" He let a small chuckle escape his lips, Tris clinging to the sound—storing it in the back of her mind. "You could go insane."

There was more silence, Tris' mind screaming for him to speak before a deep ringing entered her ears. Her body was tingling and Tris reslished in the momentary pain before the speaker clicked off—her ears dull.

 _Please help me._

Tris shut her eyes although it made no difference. She tried, in vain, to move about—her efforts to create a small splash in the water fizzling out as her body tired. _That's something, at least,_ she thought as she held onto the moment of pain as her limbs tensed—before something shifted.

She felt the air shift about her, her mind clinging to the rush of air as the weights adjusted—her limbs no longer tired and stressed. _No._ She wanted to kick and scream—anger boiling beneath her skin. _I'll cling to that,_ she thought as her rage surged within her belly—images of Jasper whipping through her mind, her veins hot with anger. _He will pay._

Whenever Tris would slip, her world falling into the darkness—she would think about Jasper. She'd picture him sad and lost as she stood above him—free. She didn't care that the other half of her mind was scolding her. _There's no such thing as Abnegation anymore._ She let that thought swirl in her mind for a bit before a sigh bubbled up her throat. _That's not fair._

She didn't know how she knew she was crying—the sensation not there to tingle down her cheeks. _I wish I could feel again._ She wanted to scream and yell. Tris wanted to break down and cry—feel the hot tears prickling from behind her eyes. She wanted to feel the sting in her hand as her fist connected with Jasper's jaw. _I wish there was more than this darkness._

She wanted to see again—the blue of the sky and the green of the grass. She wanted to feel the chill of a fall breeze—the crunch of a dead leaf beneath her feet. Tris ached to touch and be touched—her skin itching with the need for someone else's warmth. _Peter._

She wanted to feel him again—his warm hands on her. She wanted to see the green flecks in his brown eyes—the way his hair gleamed on his head. A dark halo in the sun. She missed his smirk, the way his eyebrow would arch up as he leaned against the wall—his arms across his broad chest. _I miss him._

* * *

She was losing track of time. Her body floated—weightless. She was weak but she couldn't tell. She didn't even know if her eyelids were shut or not—darkness eveloping her.

Her throat was dry, her tongue swishing over her teeth every so often—her mind no longer thinking about the action. She was lost in the darkness, her body and mind numb to everything around her. She could no longer feel the water, her world completely devoid of everything. No light. No sound. No smells. No feeling.

 _Where am I?_ Her mind flittered slightly, hazy memories pushing through before receeding—layers of night filling her.

 _You have to keep thinking,_ a voice whispered in her mind.

She almost didn't acknowledge the voice, the whisper fading out as quickly as it had slithered in. _Thinking?_ She floated there, something pounding against her chest. _Thinking of what?_

 _Anything. Just keep thinking—you need to remember things._

She wished she understood—something like a snort bubbling up her throat. _Remember what?_ Silence consumed her once more, a strange feeling in her gut. _What is this?_ Her gut was clenching—bubbling in pain.

 _You're hungry. You haven't eaten or had anything to drink for a while._

 _What's a while?_ She wished she could adjust—her body stuck. _What is this?_

 _You're stuck—you can't move._

 _Move?_ Something like a groan died on her tongue, her mind straining to remember how to move. She exhaled through her nose, the warm air not there to skim her skin—her eyelids creaking open. She blinked slowly, her eyes stinging at the movement. She sighed, the stinging vanishing quickly.

 _You need to get out._

 _Why?_

 _There are people out there who care about you—they need you._

 _Who? Where am I?_ There was something hot beneath her skin—twisting in her lower belly as strange thoughts entered her mind. _What's going on?_

 _Friends._ There was a moment of silence before the voice was back in her mind. _You're trapped by a psycho. You need to get out._

 _How?_ Silence stretched in her mind, her thoughts settling down. The pinching in her belly faded away to a dull throbbing—her brain focused on the pain. _Pain._ Her mind was whirring, memories of busted lips and bruised skin swirling in her head.

 _That's it. Keep thinking—remember._

She clung to the memories of pulled hair and glowing flags—the rush of air as she fell down, down, down. She relished as her brain shifted—memories of the warm sun on her skin. _Sun,_ she thought as she imagined the heat—her skin almost warm.

She then imagined the crisp air—her skin tingling as the fall breeze entered her mind. She wished she could smile, her lips tugging beneath the tape. _Tape._ She felt that heat sizzling in her veins—anger. _He took me._ A name was on her tongue—his blue eyes cold. Like hers.

 _Think of something happy._

 _Happy? What's that?_ She imagined scoffing, the sound reverberating against her skull as different memories flooded her brain. In her mind there were hands on her—warm as they slid up her arms, goosebumps peppering her skin. She could almost feel the warmth of his lips on her neck—his hot breath pelting her skin as he whispered in her ear. A shiver rushed past her spine as she could taste his lips on hers—the motion of their tongues swirling together.

 _Peter,_ she thought as she remembered his soft hair—her fingers running through it as he nipped down her body. There was a different feeling in her belly now—a familiar pinching as she remembered the things his tongue could do. Something like a moan danced on her tongue as her brain brought up memories of his mouth on her lower lips—tongue swirling between her sensitive folds.

Her mind shifted gears—the soft sting on her scalp as his fingers worked through her hair. She felt her breath hitch up in her throat as her mind thought about his throbbing member in her mouth. The pinch in her belly grew as she thought about running her tongue up his shaft, his member twitching in her throat as she took him in deeper—something mumbled falling from his lips.

 _What?_ She strained her mind, her ears ringing as Peter's moans grew clearer. _Tris?_

 _That's your name._

She let go of all those other memories, clinging to Peter's voice—her name falling from his lips. _Tris,_ she thought in his voice—her heart beating against her chest.

 _You have to get out of here._

 _Why?_ She wanted to just drown in Peter's voice—the memory of his lips on her replaying in her mind over and over. _This is nice. Can't I just live here?_

 _You're not living._

She wanted to protest before the memory faded. She strained her mind—Peter's face blurry before it faded away, her mind unable to picture him again. _Wait! What's going on? Where's Peter?_

 _He's not here. You need to get out._

 _I can't._ She wanted to scream, her heart's frantic beating no longer frantic—or she could no longer tell. _I can't._

 _Then you'll fade away._

 _To what?_

 _Nothing._

 _But I am—_ her thought died. _Who am I?_ There was a name on her tongue, her mind reaching in the darkness. _What's my name?_

 _Wake up._

 _I am awake,_ she thought as a sigh bubbled up her throat. _Who am I?_ Silence filled her mind as a scream died on her tongue. _Please don't go! I can't lose you, too. You're all I have._

Her breath hitched in her throat as the last thought echoed in her mind. _I remember that._ She felt her eyelids flutter shut as she thought back—the metal chair falling back, her head against the cement. _Further back,_ she prompted her brain as the feeling of rope-burns stung her wrists. Her head began to throb as she recalled all those strange voices. _Not strange—familiar._ The voices became less muddled in her brain—her mind sifting through them until his strong voice was all that was left. _Peter._

She knew tears were streaming down her cheeks although she could not feel them—Peter's face resurfacing in her mind. She felt a small sting as her lips pulled at the tape—a smile threatening to take over as she remembered his shining, dark hair—his playful smirk as he held her close.

 _"Tris,"_ he had whispered against her lips before he captured them in his—her lips recalling their warmth and taste.

 _I am Tris,_ she thought, anger sizzling beneath her skin. _I am Tris Prior and I cannot be broken._

Her mind chanted that over and over, her anger keeping her tethered to reality.

Her heart drummed up her throat as something shifted—a soft hiss echoing in the chamber. Tris clung to the noise as she felt the water around her swirl until there was no water left. Her body felt cold—her numb skin tingling in the air. There was a hiss-pop and a loud crank as light encased her. She shut her eyes tightly, the brightness stinging her eyes.

She slowly opened her eyelids, cold eyes peering down at her. He held a smirk, but it was off—stiff. She jutted her chin out as he tilted his head to the side. "Do you know who you are?"

She felt her lips twitch up, his eyes narrowed as he watched her subtle movements. "I am Tris Prior. And you cannot break me."

Tris was slowly getting used to the darkness as the blindfold shielded her eyes from the world around her. She knew he had moved her, her body too sluggish to fight back. Moments later, she was forced onto a cold object, the metal chair sending goosebumps up her thighs.

She shut her eyes as the blindfold was ripped from her face—bright lights on her. She narrowed her eyes, dots flashing across her vision before she blinked her eyesight clear. "What is this?" Her voice wasn't as weak as she'd expect, her gut churning with each breath.

She could barely make Jasper's form out—his body drenched in shadows as he stood behind a dark object—a light blinking red. _A camera?_ "You're going to help me, I told you. You're going to make a video appearance instead of a live one—figured it would be less of a hassle that way."

She swallowed hard. "You're going to pay."

"Maybe. But I'd have done what was right."

Tris let a loud cackle escape her lips, her body heaving as the laugh shook her small frame. "You're insane."

"When I press this button, you'll be live. You're going to repeat what I tell you and everyone will see it—everywhere. I have the feed hooked into everything—television, monitors, cell phones."

Tris snorted. "And then what?"

Silence stretched across the room and Tris wanted to shrink away, her limbs shaking. "Then you die."

"My death is going to convince people to recreate the faction system?"

She watched shadows dance, her eyes squinting against the bright light as Jasper stalked forward—his features coming into veiw. "Your death is going to show everyone why we need this so much."

Tris was slowly twisting her wrists, the rope not as tight as he had tied it before. She averted her gaze as he drew close, his lips dangerously close to hers. She bit her tongue as she scanned the room—the glass walls familiar. _Erudite?_ She let out a small scream as his fingers pinched her cheeks. "You'll never get what you want," she spat as his eyes darkened.

Jasper tilted his head to the side before he kissed her lips gently. She bucked backwards, her hands breaking free. She watched his eyes widen as the chair fell from beneath her, Tris' hands lashing out. Her wrists stung as her fist made contact with his jaw, Jasper's face twisting to the side as her head fell against the floor.

Her skull was throbbing, air rushing out of her lungs as she fell against the cement. Tears prickled in her eyes, her vision blurry. She twisted her head to the side, more shadows dancing in the room. She squinted, hissing in pain as four more figures entered the room—one hovering by the door as three went to jasper. She watched Jasper spasm on the floor—warm hands on her. She leaned into him, earth and musk filling her nostrils. "You can't be real—I'm still dreaming," she whispered as she leaned on him, peering up—his gleaming hair the last thing she saw before her world blacked out. A dark halo.

* * *

 **There ya go! More cliffhangers :)**  
 **Why is Jasper so familiar to Tris? Was she saved or is she dreaming it all? If she was saved, who are those four people?**

 **Follow/favorite if you haven't done so already. Review! Do the lovely things you do!**

 **Until next time, bye-bye! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey all! Here is chapter 10!**

 **I wanted to thank you all so much for your support of this story and all my other stories! I seriously sometimes go through my pms or my reviews and get happy tears and s goofy grin as I read your lovely words. It seriously means a lot that you love my writing. It means even more when my writing can inspire you to write something. Gah, I love you all. :)**

 **So a few of you were confused about the last chapter and the torutre and stuff. So the torture that she went through is a desensitizing type of thing. Think about how crazy you'd go if all of your senses were cut off. No more seeing, hearing, touching, smelling, tasting. Nothing. The only thing you would know is nothing. Eventually your memories would fade or shift and change as you go insane. it's one of the worst types of torture, psychological torture. So that's what Jasper did to Tris. He wanted to break her mentally, before trying to break her physically. Idk, hope that cleared it up. I know it was heavy but torture _is_ a heavy topic.**

 **This is set after Allegiant**

 **Characters may be ooc at times/during certain situations**

 **Rated M: strong language; mentions/hints of sexual content**

 **I do not own Divergent or any related characters/situations; just my oc's**

 **This chapter isn't as heavy, but there is an emotional scene in here...just warning ya.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Tris was groaning, her eyelids fluttering open. Moans bubbled up her throat, pain rippling through her body. Everything hurt—her limbs, eyes, head. Sighing, she shut her eyes tightly—the light too much for her to handle right now.

"Tris?" His voice was as gentle as his thumbs that were stroking her cheek.

She sighed again, her body leaning into him. _I don't care if this isn't real,_ her mind whirred as his warmth spread through her veins. "I wish I could have really seen you," she whispered, her lips sore as they formed each word.

She felt her world shift, her brows furrowed as she opened her eyes, Peter's form hanging over her. "Tris? You need to wake up."

Tris quirked her brow, her eyes staring at Peter—his eyes gleaming and lips pursed. She winced as she struck out her arm, her fingers tracing his strong jawline. "Peter? You're real?"

"Of course I am."

She felt her lips twitch up before she turned her head to the side, a gasp on her tongue. Hannah was standing by the door, her hands on her belly—she wasn't really showing, yet. Christina had Jasper tied on a chair—his body slumped forward, dark shadows marking his face. Four was staring at her, his eyes narrowed and expression dark. "What's going on?" Tris blinked a few more times, her body numb. She closed her eyes again before jolting awake, Four's hands shaking her. "What are you doing?"

Four sighed, turning to Peter. "Keep her awake. She hit her head during that fall—who knows how many times she's hurt her head or anything else." She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down, fists clenched. "Don't let her sleep—if she has a concussion—"

"I got it," Peter snapped, his arms clutching to Tris.

"Peter?" Tris' voice was soft, her throat stinging as she talked.

"You're going to be okay, okay?" She nodded, leaning into him as he held her tightly. "I can't lose you."

"How is she?" Hannah asked, taking a step forward.

Tris groaned as her body shuffled a bit, Peter's form snapping to where Hannah stood. " _You_ don't get to ask that fucking question."

Hannah's eyes widened, her head looking from Peter to Four. Four shook his head, arms crossed. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

Tris narrowed her eyes, her head snapping to Hannah. She watched the girl's breath hitch as Tris slowly stood up. "Tris?" Peter asked, his hands gripping hers tightly—Tris shook him off, swaying as she broke free. "Tris, wait!"

Tris didn't wait. She stalked to Hannah, ignoring Peter's hovering form and how Four bristled behind her. "What did you do?" Tris asked, venom dripping from her voice. She didn't care that this wasn't like her—she's been through hell and back—she can be however the hell she wanted to be. She watched Hannah back into the wall, her hands clutching her belly. "Answer me!" Tris gripped Hannah's collar, hissing before Four pulled her off. Tris wiggled out of his grasp, Peter grabbing her and holding her to his chest, his eyes casting dark glances to Four.

"Let's just calm down," Four said, his voice low.

"That's easy for you to say. Your wife wasn't almost murdered." Peter's voice was dark, his words vibrating to Tris as she pressed herself against his chest.

"I care about Tris, too and—"

"And you have no room to say shit because your wife was the one who set Tris up."

Four stiffened, his fists clenched by his sides. Hannah peered from behind Four, her eyes wide and lips tugged down. "I never meant for this to happen."

Peter laughed, his eyes wild. Tris seemed to sober up then, her hands clutching to Peter. She rubbed up and down his arms, his laughter dying down until he sighed softly. "What did you mean to happen?" Tris asked, her voice not losing its edge entirely.

Hannah flinched back. "Jasper was just supposed to ask you out. That's all."

"Why?"

"I don't know—he found out you were going to be at the wedding. He seemed interested. Now that I think about it, he seemed a little too interested—manic, almost."

"Ya think?" Christina huffed, her eyes narrowed.

Hannah rolled her eyes. "I didn't think he was insane. I just encouraged him to ask her out. As far as I knew, she wasn't with anybody." She eyed Peter. "Then you came into the picture."

Tris felt Peter bristle. "What's that supposed to mean?" he spat, body rigid.

"Didn't you try to kill Tris? Twice?"

Tris felt anger sizzling beneath her skin before Peter took a step forward, her hands automatically clamping on his arms. He stilled beneath her warmth. "Do _not_ twist this on me because of my mistakes. This is _not_ about _my_ mistakes. This is about you almost getting my girlfriend killed."

Tris felt her heart drumming up her throat. _Girlfriend?_ She cast a glance to Christina, her lips pulling up at the ends slightly. "This isn't entirely true, is it?" Hannah quirked her brow, mouth slightly open. "Jasper said someone paid him."

Hannah sighed, swallowing hard. "I gave him money to ask you out, yes. But it wasn't me paying him to do it. I was giving him money to take you somewhere nice. That little shit twisted everything because he is a manipulator."

Tris nodded before she stepped away, Peter's hands reaching for her. She gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand softly before stalking to Hannah. She watched her swallow hard, her breaths quiet and quick. Tris gave her a small smile, Hannah's lips tugging up slightly before a crack sounded through the room. Tris gritted her teeth, hot pain shooting through her hand as she watched Hannah slump forward, her hands clutching her nose—blood dotting her skin. Four held onto Hannah, casting a dark glance to Tris. She jutted her chin out before holding her hands up in defense, turning her back on them.

"What do we do with this asshole?" Christina spat, pushing Jasper forward roughly—a small groan sounding from him.

Tris heard Four's voice, not bothering to look at him as she leaned on Peter—her headache starting to fade away slowly. "Zeke is going to be here soon—with officers. They're going to take him into custody."

Tris nodded slowly as Peter wrapped his arms around her. "Do you want to go home? I'm sure Chris wouldn't mind watching over him." Tris shivered as Peter's breath tickled her ear, his whisper encasing her.

She shook her head. "No, I want to watch him be taken into custody." Peter leaned back, looking over her face. She watched a smile form on his lips as he nodded once. "I do need some air." She turned for the door before looking back to Peter, his form trailing behind her. "Alone." Her heart sputtered as he flinched back. "I'm sorry, it's just—I need to be alone right now." Peter nodded quickly, giving her a small smile before she turned back around and went through the door.

* * *

Tris was leaning against the glass walls of the Erudite building, the crisp air all around her. She stifled a sob, her body shaking with the wind. She didn't want to feel like this again—broken. Her body felt too frail, mind not clear enough. Everything was crushing her—the sun was too bright, the ground too solid, air too clear.

"Tris?"

Tris froze, her eyes glancing behind her—Four's form sliding from behind the doors. "Yes?" Her voice was sharp.

"I'm sorry."

She narrowed her eyes, anger boiling in her belly. "Sorry your wife almost got me killed? Got it."

Four narrowed his eyes. "That's rich coming from someone who's dating someone who tried to throw her over the chasm. Oh, and turned her over to Erudite."

Tris let out a cold laugh. "He also is the one who saved me from Erudite."

"Because you had saved him. He repays favors—he isn't a good guy."

"He's also the one who was there for me after everything happened. When you weren't."

Four bristled, his eyes narrowed. "After you saved him, again." Tris screamed, her hands slapping against Four's chest before her caught her thin wrists, pushing her back softly. "You're being childish."

"I almost died! You have no idea what I went through!"

"So talk to me!" They were inches from each other—his dark blue eyes scanning her. "I don't want you to go back to before—being an empty shell."

She tilted her head to the side. "Is that what you think of me?"

"Tris—"

She shook her head, stepping back as he reached for her. "You honestly think I'm going to break like that?" She shut her eyes tightly, swallowing hard. Her body was warmer as strong arms wrapped around her. She sighed, leaning into Four—his light scent encasing her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his fingers rubbing circles on her back. "I just want to—"

"Protect me?" Her voice cracked at the end before she stepped from his embrace. "I don't need your protection." Suddenly the sun was just right, the world the perfect blend of colors and shapes. The air was light and crisp, her skin relishing the feeling of the breeze. She took another step back, her feet molding to the ground—the vibrations from the earth surging through her body. She gave him a tentative smile. "Thank you."

He tilted his head to the side, confusion coloring his face. "What?"

Tris' grin widened. "You may not have been there when I needed you—"

"Tris—" He interrupted her before sealing his lips shut, her hand up to silence him.

"But you helped me realize who would always be there for me." She gave him a sad smile, his lips turned down at the ends. She reached out and stroked his cheek, his eyes closing as he leaned into her touch. "But that's not it." She felt him sigh, the vibrations tickling her palm. "You helped me realize that, although I have people to lean on, I don't need to. I _am_ strong enough on my own. And I _am_ allowed to feel hopeless and lost and cry and scream—have all of these feelings because of what I went through. And I can lean on someone if I need it—but I can bring myself up all on my own."

He opened his eyes slowly, her fingers still lingering on his skin. He didn't smile as his hand cupped hers as it laid on his cheek. His blue eyes were clear as they locked on her—a million words dying on his tongue as they stared at one another. He inhaled sharply as she slipped her hand from his cheek, his hand slowly falling back to his side. "Tris—"

She shook her head, her lips pulling up at the ends as a single tear trailed down to her chin. "Goodbye, Tobias." Her voice was as light as the wind, his lips slightly parted as she turned her back to him—her mind leaving his blue eyes and brown hair behind. Instead, she smiled as brown-green eyes came to mind, his gleaming hair messy and soft to the touch. _Goodbye, Tobias. Thank you._

* * *

Tris walked into her apartment, trying to decide whether she should giggle or scowl as Peter tried to do everything for her. He opened the front door, rushing in to grab a glass of water. She sat down on the couch as she grabbed the glass, Peter's fingers still lingering.

She shook her head before putting the glass down on the table. "Peter, I appreciate what you're doing but you do not need to help me drink."

He rolled his eyes. "The doctors said that—"

"That I'm fine and perfectly capable of handling things on my own." She sighed as she stood up, her arms wrapping around his neck. "Thank you."

She heard him exhale loudly through his nose as his hands wrapped around her waist. "I just don't want to be like—"

"You're nothing like him." She watched something unreadable flash across his face, his eyes dark as he withdrew from her. She tilted her head to the side before a sigh escaped her lips. "Peter, that's not what I meant."

He nodded softly. "I know. I just—maybe this isn't—"

She rolled her eyes as she stood behind him, her arms wrapping around his stomach. "No."

"No?"

"You don't get to do that. Everytime something happens, you use it as an excuse to distance yourself from me." She scoffed. "After everything I've been through—that's the last thing I want."

She felt his sigh ripple through him. "Tris—you were kidnapped and held hostage—tortured." His voice broke at the end, her hands clutching him tighter. "I couldn't do anything about it."

"You saved me."

He snorted. "I wasn't fast enough."

She turned him around, his body fumbling onto the couch as she threw him off balance. "You don't understand, Peter. _You saved me._ " He quirked his eyebrow at her as she straddled his lap, his breath hitching as her hands roamed over his chest. "The things he did—I was going insane. I didn't know how long I was there for—I didn't know what was going to happen." She sighed, his hands gripping her hips softly. "You were the only thing that tethered me to reality. Your voice." She smiled sweetly, his eyes searching her face. "Things you've said—or maybe they were hallucinations, I don't know—but they kept me alive and sane. _You_ did that." She kissed his lips softly, his head leaning forward as she pulled away. "And memories of times we've shared together. The picnic—the dinner—the bedroom." She watched his pupils dilate as she raked her nails down his chest, a growl bubbling up his throat.

"Tris," he croaked out. "You're not supposed to be doing any type of stressful activity."

She pouted, a smirk playing at her lips as she watched his chest rise and fall quickly. "You're right." She bit her lip to stifle the laughter that was bubbling up her throat as she stood up—his hands reaching for her.

He nodded quickly, swallowing hard as she stepped back to the hallway. "Glad we're on the same page, then."

She gave him a wicked grin. "Uh-huh."

"Yeah."

"I'm going to be in the bed. If you're not there in one minute—you're sleeping on the couch."

Tris spun on her heel quickly, closing the door behind her. She had just enough time to climb on the bed when the door swung open. Peter walked to her slowly, his fingers cupping her cheek. "Are you sure? With everything that you've been through—"

She sighed, grabbing his face and slamming her lips to his. They broke free, panting heavily. "I just need this right now—I need you. I don't want to feel broken. I don't want to think about what happened. I just need a distraction—I want you to help me forget. For one night."

Peter's eyes locked with hers, their breaths stilling in their throats."For one night?"

She bit her lip, heat crawling up her neck. "I know what you said when you were fighting with Four and Hannah—but you don't have to feel obliged to—"

Peter hovered his body over her, his hands pinning her to the bed. He ghosted his lips over hers. "I'll always be here for you. If you want me to be." She barely had enough time to smile before he crashed his lips to hers, words dying on her tongue as she closed her eyes—his warmth all around her.

* * *

 **There ya have it! I know it seems a little weird to want to engage in certain activities after everything she went through, but I thought of it like this: she was through hell and isolated from everyone. Peter just casually called her his gf, something she's been struggling with to understand for a while. She doesn't want comfort food, she wants comfort. She wanted to feel Peter and connect intimately. It's been a while since she even kissed someone and with that desensitizing torture chamber, she wants to feel all of him. Hope that makes sense.**

 **There might be one or two more chapters left, this is coming to a close. A beautiful close. Speaking of beautiful closes...how about that scene with Tobias? Tris acknowledging his faults and all that he has done for her, both sides of the coin...and then acknowledging that they need to go separate ways. I kinda got a little teary eyes writing it. I get super attached to characters, mine or not mine...lol.**

 **Anyway, follow/favorite if you have not done so yet. Review! Do the lovely things you do!**

 **Until next time, bye-bye! :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**So this is the final chapter. I know I said one or two, but I really like where I ended it. I contemplated doing an epilogue but it's too much. I think all things must come to a beautiful end. :)**

 **This is set after Allegiant**

 **Rated M: strong language/sexual content/dark themes**

 **Characters may be ooc at times/during certain situations to fit plot**

 **I do not own Divergent or any related characters/situations; just my oc's**

 **Enjoy :)**

* * *

Tris was sitting at the café with Christina across from her, her eyes narrowed and probing. "What?"

Christina snorted. "You know what."

Tris shrugged as she popped a bit of muffin into her mouth. "It's not a big deal, Chris."

"Not a big deal?" Christina slammed her palm down on the table, her face scrunching up as the waitress from before began to stomp over to them. "Shit, sorry! Sorry!" Tris failed to hide her snicker as the waitress glared daggers before muttering something—walking in the other direction. "That waitress is a bitch."

"You tend to cause trouble when you're here."

"How?" Chris quirked her brow, her hand clutching to her heart in mock pain.

Tris rolled her eyes. "You're either starting a food fight or breaking the furniture."

"Glad to know you have my back," Christina laughed, her eyes crinkling at the edges. "And don't thinnk that distracted me from what I was saying before!" Tris groaned, her head lulling back to the wall. "Are you guys official?"

"If I tell you, will you please leave me alone about it?"

Christina nodded, her dark hair swaying in her own breeze. "Yes. I promise."

Tris was chewing on her lower lip, a sigh bubbling up her throat. "Yes."

Christina deflated a little, her body slumping forward. "Yes?"

Tris nodded before sighing. "What does it matter?"

Christina quirked a brow. "That's all you're giving me? It's been two weeks! I want to know! You can't just give me that." She let out a loud sigh as Tris shrugged, her fingers popping bits of muffin into her mouth. Christina straightened out her posture, her chin jutting out. "Yes," she said in a mocking voice.

Tris narrowed her eyes. "What more do you want?"

"I want details! I want to know how you two fell in love!" Tris froze, her throat running dry. "I want to know who made the first move—who made it official? Are you two even official? Oh, please tell me that you guys are official."

Tris shrugged as she crushed her muffin between her fingers. "It sort of just happened."

"Oh, come on, you can't give me that again!" Christina was shaking her head, words falling from her lips but Tris wasn't listening. Her eyes fell to the monitor above the barista bar—her stomach twisting. "Tris?"

Tris' throat was sore, her eyes locked on those light-blue eyes—his smile never leaving his face as he was dragged to a building. "They're executing him," Corrie mentioned as she wiped down a table near them. Tris' eyes never left the monitor as she watched people fling various items at Jasper—his smile never faltering. "I think it's great," she continued. "Usually people wait for years on death row—he only had to wait two weeks."

Tris snapped back to reality as Christina's hands covered hers. "You okay?"

Tris nodded softly. "I have to go."

Christina smiled as they stood—her arms pulling Tris in for a hug. "Don't disappear on me again. I'm here for you."

"I know. Thanks." Tris smiled warmly before leaving—the cold air wrapping around her skin.

* * *

Tris entered the apartment quietly, just in case Peter was still asleep. She padded through the hall silently, her fingers clutching the knob tightly as she pushed her bedroom door open. She smiled as she watched him lay there, the sheets in messy piles all around him, his dark hair gleaming in the sunlight that stretched across the room. She watched his chest rise and fall, a soft snore escaping him as he slept.

Tris stalked in quietly, her fingers grabbing new clothes before leaving the room. She stepped into the bathroom, turning on the shower before stripping herself. She looked at herself in the mirror, her cheeks heating up as she took in the mark across her collar-bone. _Peter needs to stop that,_ she thought as she stepped into the shower, the hot water trickling down her body.

She hissed softly as the steam encased her—her eyes closed as she rested her head against the cold wall. Sighing, she reached for the shampoo when there was a shift in the air—a soft creak and a cold chill. Tris didn't bother turning around, the rustle of the shower curtain peeling back sending her shivers as his arms wrapped around her.

"Morning," Tris whispered, Peter's mouth kissing down her neck.

"Morning." He bit her pulse point, a sharp moan on her tongue. "How was breakfast with Christina?"

She smiled as she leaned into him, his arms tightening around her waist. "It was good. Nice." She peered up at him, his lips turned up in an amused smirk. "You should have been there."

He snorted as he reached over her to grab the shampoo bottle, squirting the contents onto his palm. "Why? So she could bombard me with all of those questions?" Tris rolled her eyes as he began to lather her hair, a soft moan on her tongue as she leaned back. "I think sleeping in was the better option."

Tris chuckled softly. "You two need to learn to get along."

"I can play nice."

"Uh-huh."

"For the most part," he laughed, his fingers scraping aganst her scalp as he rinsed the shampoo out. "I was tired anyway, working is kind of a hassle."

Tris bit her lip as he repeated the same process with the conditioner, her eyes sealing shut as his fingers massaged her scalp. "How is work, by the way?"

Peter snorted. "Boring. All I do all day is answer calls."

Tris turned around, her arms slipping around his neck. She blushed as his eyes roamed over her, his fingers gripping her hips. "You're lucky Lynn could get you into the firm to begin with. Being a receptionist isn't that bad."

Peter exhaled loudly through his nose. "It's a girl's job."

Tris narrowed her eyes, her hand smacking his chest. "Don't be sexist."

Peter laughed softly, his eyes holding a dark glint. "I'm a fucking secretary."

Tris pursed her lips before a burst of laughter fell through, her sides hurting as she hunched over. "I'm sorry, Peter—I—"

"You're gonna pay for that, Stiff!" Peter laughed as he lifted her up, her giggles falling from her lips as her back met the wall—her legs wrapping around his waist.

She watched his pupils dilate, his lips hovering above hers. "Peter, I just got clean."

His lips twitched up slightly. "Why didn't you shower before meeting Chris?"

She rolled her eyes. "I slept in and was going to be late—you know how she gets." He let out a snort. "And you just helped me get clean."

He gave her a wicked smirk. "So, we will get clean again." She opened her mouth to protest before he crashed his lips to hers.

She moaned as she dug her nails into his back, his hiss mixing with their breaths—their tongues dancing together. One hand was supporting her hip as the other lined himself with her. Peter pulled back a little, their lips barely touching, before he plunged inside her. Tris' eyes fluttered closed as he slammed inside of her, her head lulling back against the wall—water trickling down between their bodies.

Her moans were falling from her lips as he pushed inside her, his pubic bone rubbing against her clit each time. She was rolling her hips forward to meet each thrust, his guttural moans misting against her skin as he peppered kisses down her neck. "You feel so good," he whispered, his tongue flicking out to caress her earlobe.

Tris couldn't talk, she could only moan—blissful sighs bubbling up her throat as she bit down on his shoulder, her core tightening. He grunted with each thrust as he pulled her hips up, plunging deeper inside her. She let out a sharp moan, her teeth clamping down on his skin as her walls trembled around his throbbing member. Peter growled low in his throat as her nails raked down his back, her head falling back to the wall as her body convulsed around him. He watched the water cascade down her face as she came, heavy-lidded eyes and slightly parted lips.

She rolled her hips lazily as he continued to move inside her, his fingers gripping her skin tightly. He slammed into her relentlessly, a guttural moan falling from his lips before he kissed her. Their lips molded together, teeth clacking and tongues connecting as his orgasm washed over him. He pulled out of her slowly, her legs shaky as they touched the floor of the tub—his hands supporting her as she swayed on the wall. She smiled at him as he rested his forehead on hers, his lips pulling up at the ends.

* * *

Tris was cleaning the dishes, laughing softly as Peter's eyes burned holes on her back. "What's wrong now?"

He snorted. "You're doing the dishes."

"I am capable of doing my own dishes, Peter."

He sighed softly, his arms wrapping around her waist as he draped himself over her, hugging her from behind. "Did you see the news?"

Tris stiffened, his arms tightening. "Yes."

"I'm sorry, I didn't—"

She sighed before she turned to face him, his eyes dark and lips pursed. "It's okay," she whispered as she pecked his lips softly. "I'll just be glad when this whole thing is behind me."

He nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Why don't you let me do the dishes?"

Tris rolled her eyes. "Really? We're at this again? Peter, you cooked. I can clean up."

"It's just—nevermind." He began to pull away when she grabbed him, an audible sigh escaping him.

"Hey, don't you dare do that."

He turned to face her, his eyes searching hers. "I'm not really good at this."

"We've been over this. I'm not expecting you to be anything but yourself."

She watched him chew on his inner cheek, his eyes averted. "You've done so much for me. And there's no way for me to ever repay that—so, to me, doing little things like cooking or the dishes—well, it doesn't make up for it—but—"

Tris crashed her lips to his, his words dying in his throat as her tongue explored his mouth—her hands fisting his shirt. They pulled away slowly, panting softly. "You've done so much for me, too, Peter." He began to open his mouth when she shook her head, her finger silencing his lips. "No. Let me finish." He nodded for her to continue. She licked her lips, her thoughts racing in her mind. "You helped me get over Four. You were there when he wasn't. But you didn't coddle me. You helped me realize how strong I was—can be—am." She sighed, her eyes searching his. "When Jasper took me—you kept me alive. _You_ did. All I could think about was how miserable I'd be without you." She gave a shaky laugh, heat coloring her cheeks as he stared at her—his eyes locked on her. "I—I love you." She watched him swallow, his fingers threatening to leave bruises on her waist. "You don't have to say it back, really. I don't want you to just say it because I did—but I wanted to say it, to let you know—"

He captured her lips in his, tasting like warmth and passion as he pressed their bodies together—their heartbeats drumming in time with one another. He pulled back, his eyes searching hers. "Say it again."

Tris' lips pulled up at the ends. "I love y—" He crashed their lips together once more as he pushed her backwards, a gasp on her tongue as she fell over the couch. She huffed as she sprawled across the cushions, Peter's form hovering over her. "I love you."

They made-out on the sofa for a while, their bodies entwined until the moonlight flittered through the window. Yawning and giggling, Peter helped Tris stumble back to the bedroom—their lips connecting again as they fell to the bed.

Tris curled up to Peter, his arm wrapped around her as she laid her head in the crook of his neck—her hand splayed across his chest. She shut her eyes, smiling as his other hand gripped hers, fingers lacing together. "Goodnight," Tris whispered—sleep overtaking her voice.

Her world was dark as she teetered on the edge of sleep. "Goodnight, Tris," he whispered, his heartbeat lulling her to sleep. She was almost there, his voice as faint as a shadow as she fell asleep. "I love you, Tris Prior."

* * *

Tris was sitting on a bench, her eyes scanning the sidewalk as people flittered about here and there. She watched their forms rush to their destinations, eyes staring straight ahead of them. She sighed as she heard a small squawk and a tiny thud.

Tris turned around, her eyes landing on a small bird standing on the arm of the bench. She watched the sunlight ignite the blues and blacks and purples beneath the black feathers of the bird, its tiny head tilting at her as it hopped closer.

Tris chewed on her lower lip as she watched the bird perch next to her, its beady eyes lingering on her. She admired how its black feathers gleamed in the sun, the different colors rippling through its feathers as it twitched about. Her eyes watched the bird for a moment before getting up.

"Hey," Peter said as she approached him—his arms around her waist as her arms hugged his neck. "I missed you."

She rolled her eyes. "It's been six hours, Peter."

He smirked before kissing her softly. "Longest six hours of my life."

"You're a dork," Tris laughed as she looped her arm through his. "Where did you want to get lunch?"

"Wherever you want."

Tris sighed. "How about the—"

"Café?" Peter supplied for her. Tris blushed, nodding softly. "Let's go then. And when we come back, Lynn want's to see you—says it's been too long."

Tris smiled. "It has been." They began walking, Tris leaning on Peter before she peered over her shoulder—Peter quirking his brow as they came to a stop.

"What is it?" he asked, his head tilting to the side as he watched her.

Tris was looking back to the bench, the tiny bird perched where she had sat—its eyes watching her. She narrowed her eyes, the feathers a bit more muted than before. She blinked a few times before looking to Peter—his green-brown eyes locked on her. She watched the golden and green flecks swim in his irises before looking up—the sunlight highlighting his hair. She smiled softly as she watched his hair gleam in the sun. _A dark halo,_ she thought as she shook her head softly, her arm looping back through his as the pair began to walk once more. "It's nothing," Tris said as she leaned on him—his warmth mirroring her own.

* * *

 **That's the end! I really hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! It's sad to have it come to a close, but it can't go on forever.**

 **Follow/favorite if you haven't done so already; review, review, review! Do the lovely things you do!**

 **I seriously wanna know what you think about the ending and the story as a whole!**

 **Whoop! My first Petris (longer) fic is done! :) I'm happy with is and proud of it and I just hope you all love it too. :)**

 **Anyway, I just wanted to thank you all for your support. It's amazing, honestly. :)**

 **Until next time, bye-bye! :)**


	12. an

Okay so this profile has been hacked. I dunno how long this will stay here or when they'll change the password.

But I have a new profile: DarkDesires101

I will try to continue my stories. There was a housefire and I lost all of the handwritten plans for them and my laptop fried so I dont have originals and they're no longer on here. So, it may be a while before I can continue them, I am so sorry. Love you all!

So, go to my new profile. I have new works I am working on to get myself back in the swing of things. I didn't abandon you. I just had a lot of stuff go down. Had to put my cat down, she was my baby. Then moved into a new house and the house burns down, like is reality real? I hand wrote my ideas and chapters for the stories and I lost it all. So, be patient with me please! In the meantime, I will have some new stuff up soon!

Love,

Darien :)


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